What I discovered is this: many more people than simply me are/were grieved at my dad’s death. I know, what a shocker. I knew that I hurt. I knew my sister hurt because we stepped into the muck of emotions together on many days. I knew others were affected because they knew him and might miss him. So a few days shy of 2 years out from his death (May 16), it's a good time to be learning.
Before my dad was a father, he was a son and a brother and a cousin and a friend and a husband and a co-worker and a … well you get it. I loved him for only 22 years, and parents are supposed to die before their kids. Others lost much more than me. How easy it is to be so wrapped up into our own world that we entirely miss that others share the same circle with us. And what about now and into the future? My dad died a day before one of his friends’ birthday, and we buried him on one of his brothers’ birthday. Those celebrations are linked now with pain. There are probably many more of these linkages that I still don’t see. But it helps to see; it helps to know. And now I am sorry – sorry that I have been blinded to others’ hurts. And sorry that I continue to be selfish. I’m working on it. I promise.
These are not my words, but they have been my sentiment, especially in a nation that knows not the name of Jesus.
I stood in the dark upon the edge of two nations,
behind the village masjid with locked doors,
and covered my head with the sky,
to be with you.
Silver light touched hard mountains so gently,
that fell from stars which seemed so close,
perhaps they bent down their heads,
when I called your name.
Such an unfamiliar sound in this remote world,
it soon filled the valley and rang in my ears,
the trees turned up their hands with me,
while we stood before you.
Your majesty fills and bends time around itself,
so that a moment is longer than an hour,
and an hour passes like a moment,
as I bow down to worship.
The endless glowing heavens shouted for joy,
the whole earth was spread as my carpet,
and my mouth cried out silent words,
yet you heard me.
A desperate longing almost like pain to reach you,
but I could not reach further and wet my beard,
perhaps with tears belonging to you,
which you shared with me.
To hasten the day when these tribes and tongues,
will worship before you on this mountain,
as I did to bring glory to your name,
Yeshuaa, hasten the day.
Upon the edge of nations
25th April 2009, Kashmir