From Steel to Flesh

Yesterday my husband Craig and his family participated in the Run for the Cure… in memory of Craig’s much beloved Aunt Helen.  As I watched my mother in law cross the finish line holding hands with her daughters… my eyes welled up and tears fell…

They fell for the hurting people I saw when I looked around the park… they fell for the loss… for those who have friend, mother, sister, shaped holes in their hearts…

And yet in that sorrow there is some sweet.

There was a time in my life… a few years after my own sister died (not from breast cancer, but from Cystic Fibrosis)… when I could not cry.  My heart didn’t turn to steel right away… but little by little… until I “couldn’t” be hurt any more… but compassion left as well and bitterness took it’s place… for months… possibly a year I did not feel.

The thing about steel is that it’s heavy… so heavy… and bearing that burden exhausted me… I called out to God is a weary whisper… “Let me cry.”

An instant answer came… which is not always the case when I pray.

My mind was taken back to my first miscarriage… to grieving a baby I’d never met yet loved fiercely… It was rare for me to think about my first pregnancy… even more rare to cry over it… but I bawled and raged at the unfairness of it all…

My tears returned… and my heart was flesh again.

 

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