I looked at the clock and realized
that while the world seemed to stop for us,
that clock kept ticking...
another minute, another hour, another day,
another week had gone by,
but my dad was still gone.
The calendar is still on December.
That's where everything seemed to stop.
Everything in my parent's house was still the same,
yet absolutely everything was different.
The life was gone.
His life.
Yet the wind chimes still twinkled in the wind.
I wonder, will I ever be able to hear wind chimes
without seeing my dad sitting in the yard he loved?
As sleep eluded me,
I listened to the trains rush by...
the same sound I heard so many times as a child,
staying at my grandma's house...
the same house that my sweet dad retired in,
and loved.
Trains...
Isn't there a song about trains making you lonesome?
That's how I felt.
Cuddled with my six year old,
who hurts over the loss also,
because he feels so deeply.
The trains rumbled by,
and I felt so lonesome.
Wondering why this had to happen.
What could I have done to prevent it?
Thinking about all the words I wished I had said.
Thinking about the text I had sent him that day...
Yet, I hadn't signed it "I love you".
Did he know?
Was he proud of me?
Did he know he was my hero?
Did he understand the pain he would leave behind?
Did he understand the questions?
Does he feel our love?
Lonesome.
And the clock kept ticking.
I could hear it in the silence of the night.
Ticking away the minutes.
Ticking away the hours.
Waiting for morning to come,
for the sun to come up,
the light to shine through the window,
in hopes that it would wash away the doubt
and the fear, and the pain.
Tick Tock...
that clock,
it has been there for so many years...
yet it is suddenly a reminder that time ran out.
Or maybe... just maybe,
I can see it as time moving forward.
Not counting the minutes since he has gone,
but counting down the minutes until
we can all be together again.
One day.
But not soon enough.
I think back to that night.
Watching that clock.
Waiting.
Wondering what the outcome of the search would be.
Yet,
already knowing.
I remember watching that clock,
and praying.
I remember the absolute peace that came,
moments before I received that text.
In wonder, that even not knowing the outcome,
the peace was already there,
to carry me through.
Peace.
Isn't that funny that peace can come in
the middle of tragedy?
How do people do it without God?
How do people turn away from God the moment
something bad happens?
When the need is greatest,
too many deny themselves the peace.
Peace was there...
in the ticking of the clock.
When the pain was so unbelievably overwhelming,
peace settled over me like a warm blanket.
My prayers were heard,
the Balm of Gilead washed over my bruised soul.
I looked at the clock.
Counting the minutes of my life.
Will I do something with those moments,
that will make my dad proud?
Even more,
will I do something with my life that will make
my Heavenly Father proud?
A friend, who was struggling herself, asked me
"Where is God in all of this?"
Where was God?
I can tell you where God was...
He was there in every mile my son drove to find my dad.
He was there, when I prayed and asked if my dad was ok,
and the sweet reassurance was that yes, your dad is ok.
A warmth washed over me,
"Your dad is ok."
Ok?
How?
But he IS ok.
And so am I.
The clock will keep ticking.
Moments keep rushing by.
The chimes keep tinkling,
The trains keep rolling by.
Life won't stop,
just because my dad is gone.
It's what I choose to do with my life that really matters.
How many lives can I touch for good?
Can I look a little deeper,
see inside, look at the heart,
listen with my own heart,
hear the words that they aren't speaking?
Can I lift another when they feel they can't take another step?
Can I carry their burden?
What can I do to help?
How can I ease the hidden pains others feel?
How can I soothe the scars?
I realize that everyone is fighting a battle,
I want to make that battle a little easier.
My own clock keeps ticking.
I want to hear the 'tick tock' and remember
that I am here for a purpose.
I will work hard to fulfill that purpose in a way
that will allow my dad, and my Heavenly Father
to tell me
"Well done"
when my clock finally stops ticking!
that clock kept ticking...
another minute, another hour, another day,
another week had gone by,
but my dad was still gone.
The calendar is still on December.
That's where everything seemed to stop.
Everything in my parent's house was still the same,
yet absolutely everything was different.
The life was gone.
His life.
Yet the wind chimes still twinkled in the wind.
I wonder, will I ever be able to hear wind chimes
without seeing my dad sitting in the yard he loved?
As sleep eluded me,
I listened to the trains rush by...
the same sound I heard so many times as a child,
staying at my grandma's house...
the same house that my sweet dad retired in,
and loved.
Trains...
Isn't there a song about trains making you lonesome?
That's how I felt.
Cuddled with my six year old,
who hurts over the loss also,
because he feels so deeply.
The trains rumbled by,
and I felt so lonesome.
Wondering why this had to happen.
What could I have done to prevent it?
Thinking about all the words I wished I had said.
Thinking about the text I had sent him that day...
Yet, I hadn't signed it "I love you".
Did he know?
Was he proud of me?
Did he know he was my hero?
Did he understand the pain he would leave behind?
Did he understand the questions?
Does he feel our love?
Lonesome.
And the clock kept ticking.
I could hear it in the silence of the night.
Ticking away the minutes.
Ticking away the hours.
Waiting for morning to come,
for the sun to come up,
the light to shine through the window,
in hopes that it would wash away the doubt
and the fear, and the pain.
Tick Tock...
that clock,
it has been there for so many years...
yet it is suddenly a reminder that time ran out.
Or maybe... just maybe,
I can see it as time moving forward.
Not counting the minutes since he has gone,
but counting down the minutes until
we can all be together again.
One day.
But not soon enough.
I think back to that night.
Watching that clock.
Waiting.
Wondering what the outcome of the search would be.
Yet,
already knowing.
I remember watching that clock,
and praying.
I remember the absolute peace that came,
moments before I received that text.
In wonder, that even not knowing the outcome,
the peace was already there,
to carry me through.
Peace.
Isn't that funny that peace can come in
the middle of tragedy?
How do people do it without God?
How do people turn away from God the moment
something bad happens?
When the need is greatest,
too many deny themselves the peace.
Peace was there...
in the ticking of the clock.
When the pain was so unbelievably overwhelming,
peace settled over me like a warm blanket.
My prayers were heard,
the Balm of Gilead washed over my bruised soul.
I looked at the clock.
Counting the minutes of my life.
Will I do something with those moments,
that will make my dad proud?
Even more,
will I do something with my life that will make
my Heavenly Father proud?
A friend, who was struggling herself, asked me
"Where is God in all of this?"
Where was God?
I can tell you where God was...
He was there in every mile my son drove to find my dad.
He was there, when I prayed and asked if my dad was ok,
and the sweet reassurance was that yes, your dad is ok.
A warmth washed over me,
"Your dad is ok."
Ok?
How?
But he IS ok.
And so am I.
The clock will keep ticking.
Moments keep rushing by.
The chimes keep tinkling,
The trains keep rolling by.
Life won't stop,
just because my dad is gone.
It's what I choose to do with my life that really matters.
How many lives can I touch for good?
Can I look a little deeper,
see inside, look at the heart,
listen with my own heart,
hear the words that they aren't speaking?
Can I lift another when they feel they can't take another step?
Can I carry their burden?
What can I do to help?
How can I ease the hidden pains others feel?
How can I soothe the scars?
I realize that everyone is fighting a battle,
I want to make that battle a little easier.
My own clock keeps ticking.
I want to hear the 'tick tock' and remember
that I am here for a purpose.
I will work hard to fulfill that purpose in a way
that will allow my dad, and my Heavenly Father
to tell me
"Well done"
when my clock finally stops ticking!
