Memorials Of Compass

We went through a session yesterday on grief and loss, writing our laments on paper. Little did we know that we would be reading those laments out loud with everyone else in the room! With candles lit, we all poured out our hearts before The Lord and each other. 

Today as we said our goodbyes to the people here who have become our friends and I concentrated on putting my emotions on paper, to keep from sobbing. Many people shed tears both yesterday and today. Later, I went to our room and sobbed. Here is a poem, written in the mist of the pain.

When I see the pain of others,

It's sensation feels like smoke that smothers.

My eyes start to sting,

Tears swirl like ashes rising in a ring.

Movement rises upward toward Heaven as the fire burns,

With the eyes of my heart, Discernment yearns.

I am breathless as I respond to pain,

Pleading inwardly for the cleansing like a gentle rain.

I understand with tears, this clay will soften,

As frequent loss hardens and rolls into ruts so often.

Please take the potter's tools to smooth areas over me,

Scrape away this stinging, bring about change, don't let me be.

Alas, now I can say, "all is well with my soul",

The potter has molded me and made me whole.

Once wounded hearts are united by grace,

And I see tender new growth, brought on by every loving embrace.

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We then piled on rocks as a group for a memorial of our time here.