clinging to the Shirttails

The dark terrors of life are never more than a moment away, driving through the sunny frigidness of the mountains and you get the call, your daughter’s health is in jeopardy again—and you stare down into the abyss, the dark terror of the unknown abyss.  You hold hands and pray and cry and ask each other for reassuring words of peace working desperately to take your eyes off the depths below the razor-thin line life is walked upon.  You plow hot tears into icy ground, you quote Holy Scripture to the heavens and you reach out to touch the warm, life skin wrapped lover.  You make the urgent calls for prayers, you start the ancient process of awakening faith, you call on old friends, family, saints and sinners—come along will you now, and carry her again.  And slowly, very slowly your eyes are drawn away from the shadow of the terror of the dark abyss and moving upward begin to see the sunshine of sincerity that underscores the Great Silent Savior, Son of God, Almighty does exist because Holy light exists.  You can look at the darkness and you will see darkness or you can look at the light and you will be drawn into The Light, The Loving Six Armed Trinity that before time said, “let there be light” and there was light and now says, “fear not for We Will Never Leave her Nor Forsake her!”  And you ride on clinging to the Shirttails of Those Whose Arms Cling your daughter.