Good morning…
Over Thanksgiving weekend, I took a private walk to the nearby horse farm with our puppy of eight months. As Tate and I circled around the familiar path, I came upon a woman sitting on a rock overlooking the river. As I said, “Hello,” she looked up and I saw the tearful eyes of a friend I have not seen in a while.
“How are you doing today?” I wondered out loud.
“Well, I am having a tough time with the thought of an empty nest next fall. It makes me feeling really lonely.”
As she got up to join me on our God-given walk, we both noticed a single, toddler-sized tennis shoe sitting beside her on the rock. Picking it up she said, “I found this as I was walking. It brings tears to my eyes as I recall all of the memories I have enjoyed with our kids.”
We walked for about thirty minutes together, talking about how hard it is to leave behind one phase as life pushes us on to another. What will we do outside of the role we once loved? How do we cherish what ‘is’ rather than pining for what ‘was’? What will fill the time we once devoted to shepherding children? Discussing many important questions led to few solid answers, yet putting words to our lonely fears seemed to become a shared, sacred prayer.
Oh, oh, oh…
How empty the city, once teeming with people.
A widow, this city…
once queen of the ball, she’s now a drudge in the kitchen.
She cries herself to sleep each night, tears soaking her pillow.
No one’s left…to sit and hold her hand (Lamentations 1:1-2a, MSG).
Oh, oh, oh…
How empty we can sometimes feel, no longer the queen of the teeming ball.
Feeling now like lonely drudges, might any new dishes cooked up in our kitchen be born in prayer?
…Sue…
