i hear your heart
as it beats beneath
the sound of crashing cars.
as the sirens pour
into every street
surrounding us,
our world caves in on us
and makes us new.
all our love came out of the woodwork.
all our strength came out of the woodwork.
we only notice light
when darkness crashes against it.
we only notice light
deep in the woodwork.
i still hear the song
as it rings beneath the sound
of shattered glass.
in the aftermath,
the melody, it carries on
while we come undone,
and makes us new.
all our love came out of the woodwork.
all our strength came out of the woodwork.
we only notice light
when darkness crashes against it.
we only notice light
deep in the woodwork.
it’s a cruel, cruel trick
how we find ourselves
when we lose everything else.
like a train wreck,
the sound of your breathing hits my ears.
our world reappears
and it breaks us new.
all our love came out of the woodwork.
all our strength came out of the woodwork.
all our trust came out of the woodwork.
we only notice light deep in the woodwork.
I loved this song before losing Ginny, but after losing Ginny it became so much more real to me. The song is about how love, strength, and trust “come out of the woodwork” during a difficult time. It’s a beautiful idea, and it is so true.
My love for Daniel grew so much deeper during our loss. In the whirlwind of shock and grief, we clung to each other. God drew close to both of us at once; it was so obvious. He pulled us together in love.
I don’t know what I would do without Daniel. He takes such good care of me. In the first days after Ginny’s birth, he followed me around the house to make sure I was never alone. He was always near if I needed a hug. He knew me well enough to know that’s what I needed.
We listen to each other and try to be aware of what the other needs. When one of us has a wave of grief hit, the other is there to talk to or distract or just hug. When we both are heavy hearted, we are there to cry in each others arms. Knowing we have each other really does give us strength to get through this.
I knew Daniel was an amazing husband, but I had no idea what an incredible man he really was. In the darkest, hardest moments, he was everything. Even though we have lost so much, I can’t help but feel blessed at how much love we have.
We aren’t an anomaly. At my job, I have the honor of interacting with families going through serious illness or injury. One thing that has stood out to me so loudly is how much love there is. I witness true love. It’s not a fairy tale “true love’s first kiss” kind of love. It is far more magical than that. It is the “in sickness and in health” kind of love. True love. True devotion. People who care for each other in powerful and meaningful ways. They make each other laugh, encourage each other, do everything together, and serve each other so well. When one becomes weak, the other is there lifting them up. It’s heartwarming and inspiring.
I’m sure that love is always there, but it does have a way of coming out of the woodwork when we need it most. It’s healing and hopeful and amazing. I’m so grateful for it.
Be-Still-and-Know 