Jesus
said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the
kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."---Matthew 19:14 NIV
This post is a dedication to my five grandbabies in heaven.
As I write this post, I do so
after a return from vacation. My wife Terry and I spent three weeks visiting
our daughter and her family in Windsor, Ontario. We enjoyed being with them
again since they moved almost two years ago.
There is a lot of breathtaking
scenery in the Windsor area and friendly people all over the place. In this
post I highlight a special place we walked around during our vacation. I call
this post “Stillness in a Cemetery,” to relate an experience with stillness
while visiting the Heavenly Rest Cemetery in Windsor.
A Memorial to Stillness
As Terry and I walked through
this multi-hectare resting place for loved ones, we both gasped as we approached
a section of the cemetery. This was an area marked “In Loving Memory of the
Unborn.” We walked among dozens of graves of babies and little ones under
five years precious. We were both silent in this memorial to stillness.
A statue of a mother stands near
the graves of the children as if she is watching over them. The statue is
magnificent in its lifelikeness. The gravesites marked with names of children,
children who I’m sure still matter to their parents and families. Several of
the babies lived for only one day. I imagine their parents will remember them
for the rest of their lives.
Stories out of Stillness
My grandfather heart stood at
attention as I walked by the graves. I thought of the grandbabies Terry and I
mourn. My writer heart wept, and I knew what I must do. I would take
photographs of this “In Loving Memory of the Unborn” resting place. I will
also include a few of the photographs in my book dedicated to the grief of
grandparents. Terry understands my contemplative nature and awaits me as I
wandered the cemetery on my own for a while.
Cemeteries are memorials to
stories of loved ones. Here, young, loved ones who have passed into the
place where God is. The stories of the children are told by those who still
love them through visible gestures of love. These come as toy cars,
angel figures, little dolls, a stuffy elephant, and heartfelt engravings on and around the grave
markers.
Stillness Calls
Stillness washed over me and
the words in my head and heart shed tears as I walked around the gravesites.
This is what heart-words do before they bring a story or poem to life. This is
also a reason I love stillness. Stillness is lifeblood to those of us of a
contemplative nature. Stillness is where the still small voice of God speaks
into the words we offer to the world.
For the most part, I need a
place and attitude of stillness for my words to settle enough to make sense.
Perhaps because of the season of life I am in, I never write where there are a
lot of people talking or moving around. For me, a cemetery is such a place. The
graves and grave markers provide a reminder of how much life matters and death
has meaning. This is enough inspiration to bring forth words of beauty,
comfort, and encouragement to one’s readers. These are words birthed from a
place of stillness.
Dear friends, where do you
find stillness? How familiar are you with the embrace of stillness?
Alan lives in a small village
called Deroche, British Columbia, with his wife, Terry, and their poodle,
Charlie. He enjoys walking on the dike near his home, where he finds
inspiration for his writing. He occasionally writes articles for FellowScript
Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’
Fellowship blog. His website, https://scarredjoy.ca, is under construction.
