Tuesday, January 31, 2017

And still counting (9980-10,000)

for talks with my dad on the phone
an opportunity to pray with him
his heartbeat and life
blankets and scarves he made that I can wrap myself in
for reminders of my Father who sings over me
Tracey, who makes me laugh

extroverted strangers who do all the talking so I don't have to think
hot tea with honey
winds that stop so we can move a wayward trampoline
so many dear friends and their prayers
his souped up truck

a glimpse into his world
the things that grief rips open
my dad
a tote of yarn balls he meant to surprise me with
for reminders of a bigger picture

for a necklace he gave me, turned over to inscription
his rest and peace in Christ's care
walks with my daughter under a sparkling, detailed night sky
the wrestle in understanding who he was, who I am, who we were
that You hold the world, and You hold this moment


Rebecca said...

10,000 sweet friend. 10,000. Loving you, Rebecca

Courtney said...

Yes. I always wondered what would be the 10,000th. I never imagined it would be the week my dad died. Loving you too, friend.