A Blank Bedroom Wall

They live in a borrowed space entertaining guests everyday. Her name is Hope. His is Death. Their door is always open. She laughs and twirls in crinkled green linen and gold bangles with gold dangles. He smoothly moves in cool gray and black tie.

She recently swooshed spackle over the apartment walls, then covered them with coats of white whispering green. On every wall but one she hung something. Generic hotel items such as a small mirror, a flattened acrylic palm tree encased in a large gold frame, a kitchen clock, or another palm tree framed in a smaller gold frame. She left blank the largest wall in their bedroom. It is an arms length away from the foot of their bed and stretches from window to door. The wall laughs as sunlight tickles its nakedness; it sighs as night covers its nothingness.

Coleman, Hannah, and I mingle with others everyday at their open house. A twenty-one year old boy and a fifty-five year old man wait for hearts. Parents of a two year old boy stop by on their way to their son’s hospital room. They wait for a bone marrow transplant to reverse leukemia’s advance on his life. A twelve year old girl waits for a kidney. We and our twenty-three year old daughter wait for lungs.

I aways wait for everyone to leave, then ask, “May I see the blank wall?”

Death nods. Hope smiles. I perch on the edge of the bed and look up. The wall looks down and whispers, “Shhhh. Be still. I AM is God.

journal entry 2005


2 responses to “A Blank Bedroom Wall

  1. Oh my … tears fill my eyes as I read this absolutely beautiful work. The wall is an amazing metaphor! Ps 46:10 says it all so well. I cannot begin to imagine your pain or how much you much miss your lovely daughter, but I am comforted and strengthened by your faith. It really IS all we have to hang onto. Keep writing!

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