April 11, 2020

The In-Between

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We sit silent, waiting,
pondering the not yet,
the in-between,
the lack of wind that blows
to show us any direction.
We wait, unknowing when
the next movement comes.
We long, by a grave that gathers
both hope and doubt,
for a man who told us
the kingdom of God was at hand.
Is His hand still here in the dark?
In the stillborn, in the sniffling
of tears that tell us the miracle
had no time to come to life?
We ache in our hearts
for the dreams broken inside us
that cut our flesh from jagged pieces,
disappointment fresh as the
embalming fluid poured over
the body locked in the grave.
Tell us, when does light rise again?
We sit silent, waiting,
pondering the not yet,
the in-between.

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  1. Sarah, I’m just reading back thru some of your posts (as I sometimes do) and was caught up in the raw ache of this entry. My brother and sister-in-law lost their five month gestation child in April 7th. This entry speaks so of the utter devastation and questions. Thank you for you honesty.

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