Thursday, November 14, 2013
An Empty Place
She has been absent for years now - a mysterious disappearance into the mist called "dealing with issues". My little sister. My only sister. I haven't heard her voice for eight years.
Eight years ago, she began to speak in ways I didn't clearly understand. This beautiful soul who looked up to me with an admiration I never deserved and loved with a selfless, giving heart simply decided she needed to distance herself from her family.
We comforted ourselves with the thought that surely it was only a temporary thing. But the days rolled into weeks. Months passed with no word, and our attempts to reach her were met with a wall of silence. Phone calls went unanswered; cards lay unopened somewhere in her home.
Every special occasion brought with it the hope that she would step back into our lives. We were disappointed over and over again.
And all the while a broken-hearted mother and father lived each day wondering why. What had they done wrong and how could they make it right?
The years passed. Years filled with joys and sorrows she knew nothing about. And the silence persisted.
There is no happy ending to this part of my story yet. We pray. It is all we have left to do. It is enough.
I sometimes dream about her. In my dreams I am often angry. When I wake, I think I understand the elder son in the story of the Prodigal Son. I know she will be welcomed back with open arms. And that is right. But I have lived without a sister when I desperately needed one. I have needed her help in so many ways, and she has not been there. I confess to a certain bitterness when I let my mind meander down that path. But I am reminded of the grace and mercy that has covered the very darkest of sins in my own life.
So we wait. With hope. With love.
Joining Jennifer - telling part of my story.