Thursday, August 6, 2015

A Psalm of Robin


A psalm of Robin.

Lord of all comfort, to You I offer my shattered heart. 
Even while I sense Your sweet presence, the hurting in my chest remains a constant companion.  
Only You know the number of our days and surely You knew the fullness of my parents days. 
I praise You for the blessing they have been in my life, ultimately pointing my attention to You as my Heavenly Father. 
When my mother left my side to be with You, I was surrounded by a cloud called Orphan that looked to make my path foggy and uncertain.  You whispered to my heart, ‘you are not an orphan, you are mine,’ and over time I rested in Your tender words. 
Now my heart is again in pieces as my father has flown to You.  Asleep in Jesus. 
Yet, even with the news freshly echoing in my ear that he is gone, he is gone, he is gone, You remind my heart, ‘you are not an orphan, you are mine.’
I praise you Lord, You are truly a ready help in time of trouble.  
I thank you Lord, for Your sweet Presence through the swirling mists of grief guiding me with Your sure hand.   
I thank you Lord, for the lessons learned that tell me the unexpected and unwelcome waves of memory, emotion and pain have a crest and become less raw and tormenting as their frequency peaks and levels out over time. 
I thank you Lord for the comfort of understanding family and friends who have charted uncomfortable grief walks with You and share their cloaks of God comfort to  wrap me in Your presence as an insulator to the moments of harshness. 
I thank You Lord, that they comfort without expectation of explanation, as my memories feel too sacred to share.
And I thank You, for You.  Without You, I would have no hope.  You fill my vision with joy in the ordinary and bless me with good work to do keeping my hands busy while You sweetly heal my heart. 
When the spirit of heaviness descends, You valiantly chase her away with just the mention of Your name.  Truly, You are my Shield, the Lifter of my head, the One who sets me on a Rock that is higher than I, my Stronghold in which I take refuge.  
I exalt Your name, Great Father of mine and I thank You for allowing me the privilege of being Your child and the honor of carrying Your name. 
With You there is always a future and a hope no matter how dark a day may seem or how bad the news may be. You are the Light in the dark place.  With You darkness becomes light and holds no fear.  My ever-present Friend. You fill my heart with joy. 

8.6.15 Robin Bjornson

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful commentary on the grief of losing parents. Losing mine made me wish I had known them more intimately. Youth can be so self
    centered.

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