Held

This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise that when everything fell...
We'd be held.

These are the words from a beautiful Natalie Grant song titled "Held". My friend Sandy told me about it but until I heard it myself, I could not have realized the impact it would have on me. It is haunting; it is a heart song, it is my song. I am held; my family is being held...

Reading yet another book on grief, "How to Survive the Loss of a Child", I realize I have learned a new language...a language from my gut that is the almost animal cry of loss, loss of my child. I did not even know this language existed until it became mine. My spiritual mom, Lee and I talked about it when we visited Florida in May. Her son Paul died last November. There is this hollow, hallowed spot within that just roils, churns and comes out as an unintelligible sound that speaks of the unspeakable...my child is gone...my child is dead. And in my case, my child is gone by her own hand. How will that ever make sense? This new language does not provide any answers to that.

And in the only way I know, I look for God. As I walked Monday, I thought how weird as some neighbors who know me, avoid my wave to them. Do they think suicide is contagious? It makes me sad but I press on. Then the title of that book crosses my mind and just as it does, a cardinal flies by. God reminding me that He knows. And I am held.