Author Description

Clinging To The Cross Soft pinks and lavenders filled the quietness of the evening sky. The shushed rustle of birds drifted to the silence of night. The full moon rose like unto a small pearl so gentle; so soft. Below stood I beside my wife's freshly dug grave and the statue of a woman clinging to the cross. I pondered our days in which we both labored under the sun. I recall all the blessings in our life that the Lord God had done. I remembered our trials; I recalled our victories and their cost. Yet what I remember the most is how through it all, my wife Leah forever in faith clinging to the cross. Now that she is gone and I this little man feel so alone. I think; I pray and I recall how God has always made the way. now I too know what I must do and that is like Leah... I am to cling to the cross each and every day. J. Allen Wilson 9/13/2008