One of my favorite garden features is the wind spinner. It is a combination of circles that seem to float in air. In the heat of a Central California summer day, the rings stand still, motionless with no wind to propel them.
But then… an evening breeze will stir up the rings and they begin their dance. In the fall and winter a nice storm might blow through the garden and the rings really move. Around and around catching the wind, responding to its touch. Sometimes a whisper, sometimes a shout.
The pace of the wind spinner reminds me of my grief journey these days. I think about my son every day. But he is not my grief. My grief often sits still like the wind spinner on a hot summer day. Still, quiet, nothing really to note. I live my life, I do my thing, I miss my son, repeat. Those days, I feel pretty confident as if I have this grief thing figured out.
But then… an evening breeze starts to blow. Something will happen that stirs my grief. Honestly, it could be anything. I may be telling a story about him, looking at his picture, or just having a great memory. And before I know it, the breeze kicks back up. Grief will not be denied, swirling around me threatening to have its way with me.
And then there are the storms. The birthdays, the holidays, the anniversaries, family events. Those days my grief overwhelms, spinning me into a mess of tears and emotion. In the storm, it is hard to remember that it will pass.
In the five years since my son’s accident, I have been reminded continually that through God’s grace I can weather the breezes, the storms. While the wind spinner is at the mercy of the wind, I am a child of God who commands the storms. Matthew 8:25-26 reminds me that when I am in the storm, crying out, “Help me!” He is there. He is there to comfort me, to calm the storm. I will continue to have those days; the grief will continue to whirl around like the wind spinner. But I am not alone.