and the promise remains


A heaviness sits around us today. a friend passed away yesterday, a friend’s days are passing quickly, and the grief is dense, like the humidity after the rains that just poured. but the rain stopped, the clouds parted, the sun shone again. i was thinking a lot about what we term “grief” and “joy” today… how often i equate “joy” with what i think is only mere happiness, but joy and grief often go hand in hand. eternal joy is different than momentary happiness. c. s. Lewis calls this ache a “stabbing joy.” and grief hurts us because it’s foreign to us- we were made for joy in eternity. the world is broken, friends die, but we have joy because all sadness will become untrue and our joy will be realized, the mourning completely unknown. 

these words are a comfort as the promise to make the sadness untrue rings hopeful in mourning hearts. 


Sitting on porches since Friday while the sky
tilts like a watery glass

We wait for downpours, a drenching joy, 
a carnival sky
But what I don’t say, what I can’t say 
is that with this joy comes a mourning. 

Something left behind
blue lined, teary, mingled
I move on

All things will change. 
We wait for the rain, 
and the promise remains. 

Live life fully, peeking through fingers
slung in our hammocks, cocooned. 
skimming the water, trapezed over time
we glide like slingshot angels. 
Belly up and floating
we see the promise in the sky. 

Up to Orion’s ribs we climb this tree
and listen for our pulse. 

All things will change. 
We wait for the rain,
and the promise remains. 

I flung loosely into that world,
I stayed heavenly. 
I’ll be a Jacaranda Tree in Indiana, 
I say greenhoused and sung to. 

I pray light will leak from out pockets,
we’ll all be drenched, overcome. 
At night the fireflies, 
streamers at our sides, 
silent flaming arcs of hope. 

All things will change. 
We wait for the rain, 
and the promise remains. 

Jacaranda tree. –Josh Garrels



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