This has been one heck of a week. Locally, we tragically lost a treasured nurse practitioner, Lucy Strickland, who touched so many lives, including mine. We also had to say goodbye to a twenty-three-year-old, young man who lived and loved well, Christopher Sapp. Both of these deaths were unexpected, leaving holes that will never be filled.
The attack on Ukraine by Russia is breaking hearts, destroying families, and taking innumerable lives. So much heartache bubbles to the top as we watch news reports and hear of panic and turmoil.
Personally, I had to say goodbye to my granny, which has been harder than I ever imagined it would be. I walked around her house and yard, remembering and saying goodbye.
These tear-filled moments from the week have my mind all over the place. A reminder from the late Sarah Rowe has been at the forefront: Give people their flowers before they die. She always said this and she’s right—people need to know they matter before they pass away.
Another thought resulted from a Facebook meme. The quote is from Katherine Mackenett, “Now, every time I witness a strong person, I want to know: What dark did you conquer in your story? Mountains do not rise without earthquakes.”
Death. Loss. Grief. These leave a mark on our lives. They often steal our joy and leave holes that can wreck stories. So many people this week are facing deep, grievous loss. It’s sobering.
Suddenly all the have-tos seem pointless and keeping up with the meetings and requirements doesn’t matter. In moments like these, we see clearly what God intends for us to do on this earth—offer hope and love to the ones we care about. Show them Jesus. Tell them they are valuable. And hug them longer than we need to.
I was reading some poetry this morning and Good Timber jumped off the page. May our heartaches grow us. May our brokenness never be in vain. And may God use these dark times to make us into good timber.
Good Timber
Written by Douglas Malloch
The tree that never had to fight, For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain, And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king, But lived and died a scrubby thing.
The man who never had to toil, To gain and farm his patch of soil,
Who never had to win his share, Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man, But lived and died as he began.
Good timber does not grow with ease, The stronger wind, the stronger trees,
The further sky, the greater length, The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow, In trees and men good timbers grow.
Where thickest lies the forest growth, We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold counsel with the stars, Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife. This is the common law of life.
(Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/good-timber-by-douglas-malloch)