I keep wondering what will be left.
After all the trying, all the hoping, all the tears, after everything has been thought through, said, whispered, and prayed. When my plans can’t budge what is best.
I still don’t know the rest of my dad’s story, but I know who is the Gracious Storyteller, dare I say the Author. There are pages that we can’t see…parts of the book where the ink isn’t visible to our teary eyes. And even though I can’t see everything, and I twist and swing against my confusion, this story will end with Restoration. With a healthy, cancer-free dad. No more tears, no more darkness. No more disease. No more death. No more leaving daughters and wives. I believe.
Tears that fall aren’t wasted.
And in the end, the end is
Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We’ll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all.