I Wish I Had Sackcloth and Ashes - The Roof Inspector Would Have Known.
Girded with sackcloth- put on the mourning clothes so all can know you grieve. Mourning clothes have gone out of style now in this day and age. No one can look upon me and know I'm in mourning simply by my clothing. What solace there must be in having mourning clothes on. I'm not saying there should be strict rules about mourning clothes, that you must remain in those mourning clothes for a year or the like. I'm saying if I had a garment of mourning upon me that complete strangers would see and know that I'm grieving a loss, wouldn't that elicit more healing balm of sympathy towards my grief?
A roof inspector (for the new roof the home owner is having put on the house we rent) maybe he would have felt less ill at ease when he asked me how I was. You know, it's the polite thing to do when you see someone. How are you? Many people ask this question in our way of life. You go into a store, they ask, 'How are you?' You answer the phone, 'How are you today?' You all know what I mean, it's the question of the day for so many people. I know I've asked that very question myself, all the time. So when said inspector asked me how I was doing - guess what I said? I said, I'm okay. It's the response people want to hear isn't it? That's the go to answer to the question. Before the Inspector could reply I blurted out, 'That's not true, I'm not okay, my husband just passed away.' You've heard the expression, deer in the headlights, right? Well, Mr. Inspector's eyes widened and he stammered just a touch and offered his condolences. All might have been well if I'd stopped there. But I babbled on. 'He died unexpectedly. And, and our car there in the ditch just broke down, something with the ignition." And Mr. Inspector gave me a commiserate smile and said, 'If it's not one thing it's another, these thing seem to come in bunches.' Or some such very well meaning platitude. Remember, he was trying to inspect the roof. He didn't walk up my driveway to catch me returning from checking the mail box down at the end of the street, to be confronted by me… in mourning. Now, if he'd been able to see a garment on me that alerted him to my mourning just how different things might have been for the poor unsuspecting man. He'd have known and not been caught off guard by my grief. The rawness of that grief cried out for comfort, yet to expect a stranger, duty bound only to inspect the roof, to offer that comfort was unsettling. I walked into the house in a bit of disbelief that I'd said anything at all. I don't usually talk to strangers let alone tell them bits of my personal life. It's not like I didn't have a daughter in my house to comfort me, I did and she did comfort me, and helped me with my feelings of anxiety over my own unusual behavior, thank God.
Again, I wish I had sackcloth to wear, society acceptable sackcloth, and perhaps a few ashes to go with the sackcloth, then everyone would know and they'd perhaps give me a small understanding smile, a glance of much needed understanding, a quiet- 'I'm sorry for your loss.' There needn't be any details, but just a sharing of situation, a situation we all find ourselves in more often than we'd like throughout our lives.
No sackcloth will touch me, no ashes will darken my flesh, I will walk about as if all is right in my world to all outside appearances. All isn't all right, I've a large crack in my heart invisible to the world.
My Lord understands my broken heart, He came to heal broken hearts. My Lord sees beneath the outer garments void of all visages of mourning, and He knows my deepest grief. My Lord knows how to mend this heart ripped opened when my love, my Jerry fell into his last, his deepest of peaceful sleeps. The blood of a heart torn ragged streams through my very being, and My Lord, knows. My Lord sends the kind words of those who do know I'm grieving, who do not need to see me decked in widow garments. Each kind word, each loving gesture, every single prayer breathed through the Spirit to my God, from all those who've prayed and continue to pray for me- this is the balm of My Lord as He tends to stitching the wound of my heart.
2Sa_3:31 And David said to Joab, and to all the people that were with him, Rend your clothes, and gird you with sackcloth, and mourn before Abner. And king David himself followed the bier.
Rend your clothes- grief so raw, the very action of tearing at your own clothes to reveal such pain, this is what David, beloved of God did and asked others to do to honor the death of a man
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All through Jesus Christ My Lord, My Savior now and forever! All through His mercy and His grace! All thanksgiving, praise and honor, all glory to HIM! Amen!!!!!!!
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