It is hard to miss… sitting there over on the left side of the family dining table.
The empty chair.
A silent witness to a place that will never again be filled… a testimony to the part of our story that will remain untold except in our hearts.
How is it possible to so desperately miss the predictable comebacks and cornpone comments that once came from over there?
What I wouldn’t give to be able to roll my eyes in mock anguish…
One. More. Time.
Of course, the empty chair is there every day. But it somehow looms larger this time of year… the time when traditions are unpacked and festive gatherings abound.
My eyes search that place, aching to see the face that once sat there,
Yet seeing only the emptiness.
Today I pray the empty chair might coax me into stillness,
Might encourage a silent conversation with a realm too often ignored,
Might help me see the bridge that stands between my solitary island of grief and yours,
Might somehow weave us invisibly together.
Will the day ever come – I wonder
When I am able to see and give thanks for the strange gift
Of the empty chair?
May God’s peace enfold and surround each of you who approach the Christmas season with an empty chair in your lives… whether it is for the first or the 50thtime.
“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28, NRSV)
Russellings of the Spirit 
Painfully beautiful…
Thank you.