Living in a Shadow Doesn’t Mean It’s Dark

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Today outside our snow-splattered window

I watched an eagle swoop down

toward the ice-covered road.

Then flapping its wings it rose up and up,

and soared over our white barren field.

And I recognized it for the sign that it was:

This winter we will NOT be buried by a blizzard!

 

Last fall my husband began a series of diagnostic tests

to determine the cause of his various health issues

and the loss of 30 lbs and the deep fatigue.

This all lead up to a crisis when he experienced a critical allergic reaction

to an opioid injection, used with anesthesia, for a crucial biopsy,

and landed him in the acute care hospital unit.

The seizures ended and rehab began, but he continued needing care at home

while his fellow truckers covered his loads

all through the Holiday Season of the year 2019.

Our children and grandchildren, whom we dearly love, overflowed our house

as they came and went, from near and far, from back east and down south,

bringing cheer and love and goodwill to all.

 

It was like existing in a playground during a storm:

There was the Merry-Go-Round:

round and round we went

to this and that clinic for this and that test-

faster and faster, we clasped hands as we circled

but we were not very merry.

There was the Tilt-a-Whirl:

separate circles dipping up and dipping down,

connected but never really together,

as we separately sped around and around

doing this task and that task non-stop.

There were the Slides:

The short straight slide –

we barely ran out of breath on the climb to the top

but reached the bottom too fast

with an off-kilter plop.

The tall curvy slide –

we pushed and prodded ourselves up the steps to its top

but the curves going down were distorted and bumpy

and we wanted to stop.

The high circular slide that ended in the pool –

we trudged grudgingly up the stairs to one landing, then another,

till we crawled at last onto the top of the tower

and looked longingly down at the smooth surface below.

How awesome it would be to float on that water

and be buoyed up by a force that wasn’t our own

and feel the cool gentle strength below us

and the warm comforting rays around us!  

So the eagles come around to remind me of a strength that is not our own

but comes from the everlasting God of Isaiah,

the Creator who never grows weary.

And though we no longer soar on wings like the eagles,

nor do we run and not get weary,

still, we are able to walk and not get weak,

which perhaps takes the most courage of all.

Living in a shadow doesn’t mean it’s dark.

For in the shadow of your wings, Lord, we sing for joy. 

This winter we will not be buried by a blizzard. 

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