In Blackwater Woods - Denia Bradhaw

 When I saw that the scripture read last Sunday was John 16:20, “you will grieve,” I thought about my journey with grief these last handful of years, particularly my experience of losing my father on Christmas Eve 2019. And a few days before his memorial services in early January 2020, this poem by Mary Oliver entitled In Blackwater Woods crossed my path. It is about life, death, loss, and acceptance. It reads:

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go

In Blackwater Woods by Mary Oliver

So descriptive, and rich. And relevant, and relatable. 

 “To live in this world – you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the times come to let it go, to let it go.”

 As it relates to these three things, what (or who) do you love that is mortal - that you are holding against your bones knowing your life depends on it? And as it relates to letting it go… did you know? How did you know when to let it go? 

I know I am still grappling with this with God.