All Souls’ Day snuck up on me this year, and I hadn’t given it much thought except to plan a short prayer experience for some students. We shared memories, read Scripture, and took the last 20 minutes or so for creative expression of whatever was on our hearts and minds.
I sat on the floor next to the markers that the students hadn’t chosen for their own work, and picked one up. I felt called to draw an image of a flame, first drawing its contours in the fieriest colors left in the pack. As it took shape I branched out to the “wrong” colors for fire, and found use for the markers that barely had any ink left in them.
What if this is what we are? Flame always shifting, always ready to be transformed? Are we, too, making use of whatever is in front of us, lumping in the imperfect and making it perfect through our devotion and love?
It had been a long time since I left myself sit with how much I miss certain souls, especially some family who left us too soon. I was startled by the grief that still abides, yet comforted by the remembrance that the love which fuels this grief still sets my heart on fire. Those dear souls live in that fire, the fire that is not mine alone but fueled by the consuming flame of God’s own inextinguishable love.