Someone who is missing…someone.
The holidays bring laughter, joy, and spirit-filled carols.
They bring reminders that there is an empty chair.
Someone is missing that should be with you.
Maybe it’s your Dad…
whose laughter always filled the room and he’s now singing with the angels.
Or the grandchild who is trying to find her way…
and you’re hoping she’s somewhere warm tonight.
Or the child whose empty crib still seizes your heart and catches your breath and you wonder,
You try and hide your grief because you don’t want to spoil the party.
You put on the brave face because you’re sure friends are tired of hearing about your pain.
You feel guilty for your inability to really be in the moment, but for you, the moment doesn’t seem to matter.
Oh, Dear Friend,
Your heart hurts and God knows it.
You want to breathe again and God knows it.
You want the emptiness to be filled and God knows it.
He will meet you – sit with you – in your hurt and loneliness and sadness.
Words are just…words. I know.
But if you and I could just rest in the fact that God knows it, perhaps we would find the energy to take another step.
We would feel something other than the pain.
We would remember all the good times that happened before the empty chair.
Hear my prayer, O Lord; listen to my cry for mercy.
In the day of my trouble I will call to you, for you will answer me.
Dear Friend who sits next to an empty chair…
I am praying for you.
You are cared about.
You and your empty chair.
I am sitting with you.
Will you just say a little Amen as you read this?
And in doing so, lift up others in our little community here who are looking at their own empty chairs?
You are not alone.
God knows it.