Current

I grew up beside a river. 

Every morning I woke up to its silent current running past my house. It was always there, shaping my days with its seasons and storms. Every year, it dropped during dry season, and tall, sharp, grass grew up along the banks in bright green swaths. Every year, the river rose again, and sometime during the winter break I might wake up to find that huge grass islands had been cut free by the current and were being gently carried past my house. It was silent, yes, but oh so powerful. 

My favorite way to end the day was to dive off the dock at sunset and float until the stars came out. I knew how to lay in the calm backwater, where the current would not get me, but most of the time I let the current take me downriver. I enjoyed the letting go, the way nothing was required of me but to rest and let the current carry me. 

My sister-in-law Hayden died on Tuesday. Writing this sentence does not feel real in any way. THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN, I keep saying to myself. This cannot happen. I just saw her in August. How can she be gone? 

There is nothing I can say to my brother to heal the gaping hole in the universe that Hayden has left. There is nothing I can do. Nothing I can do. It is this helpless feeling that, more than anything, drives me crazy. What can be done? Nothing. There's no going back in this current. 

Once, during a rough summer, a young man I barely knew prayed over me, and he said, "I think God wants you to know that He is carrying you in a current of His love." He knew next to nothing about my life before that summer. I really believe that God gave him a picture that would speak to me and let me know He was still there, still listening, still acting in ways I could not see. 

Over the past couple of days, as my siblings and I have talked and cried, God has reminded me of this image. His love is carrying my brother, Hayden's family, my family, everyone who ever loved this wonderful woman who has left us. I've been crying out to God for so long on Hayden and Adam's behalf. I know He is not silent in the way that we judge silence. His voice comes to us through people and people's actions. Sometimes, though, I wish He would speak audibly. I wish this current was not so silent. 

Whenever my river's current took me far away from the dock, I always had the option to sit up and swim for the shore. The current would not catch me there. I could sit out and let it carry other things past me. God's love, though, is not something I can escape. He has a hold on me, He has a hold on all of us, and He does not let go. No matter how much thrashing and kicking I may do during this time, no matter how much anger I have towards Him, He is not going to let me go. His love is too strong to be overcome by any of our bitterness. He keeps us here, in this moment, in the current of His grace and mercy. It is here that we are safe. 

There is nothing I can do for my brother right now except to be with him, and I am glad for this. I am glad that there is nothing for us to do but to rest, weep, mourn and let God carry us.