The dishwasher swishes and hums. The Biker sleeps. Pandora plays. My heart has been many places today. Since Christmas day many chairs have been emptied. One by one they have gone away. With each one goes a little part of our hearts til they are bleeding, ragged holes: missing, aching, wishing. Life goes on. With life is struggle. Fighting for life. Fighting to let go. Life breathes. Hope. A bright small moon shines over a world awakening to spring. Spring that follows winter. Seedtime and harvest = Promise. Supper + Garden + Cross + Tomb + Resurrection = Hope. Heaven waits. Hope rises. Bleeding ragged hearts hold on. He holds our bleeding hearts in His own bleeding hands. He holds hope and healing and heaven. He holds it all: life, death, breath, hope. Heaven.
