After all the flowers have dried up from the funeral

After all the cakes and casseroles have been consumed

After all the far flung family has returned to their homes

After the deluge of sympathy cards has become a trickle.

After the shock, after the denial, after the noise

there is a silence.

The house is empty.  The chair that was his is not filled.

It is quiet but there is no peace.  What is left is the internal turmoil

and all the questions.  So many questions.  Questions which may never be answered.

But first, the flowers must go out to the trash.  The dishes must be returned to the maker.

Thank you notes must be written.

Holy God, send your presence into this silence.  We need a whisper of hope and a nudge of

peace.  Come, Holy One, Come.