• facing grief

    In the moment…

    All your circumstances are in the hand of God, so never think it strange concerning the circumstances you're in.
        -Oswald Chambers

    This has been a time of 'strangeness' for many people- the markets, the scary realities of our post-modern world that seem to sit just off stage with evil eyes, waiting to pounce. I can say the same for my own family life- strange happenings, unexpected realities. I know of others for who this is true as well. I attended the wake for the mother of a distant friend, and there was a tiny two week old baby in the same room. The glorious promise of it made my chest hurt, a deep, thudding, throbbing promise. On one side of the room, Death. A life snuffed out. On the other side of the room, Life. In all its dazzling newness.

    At the beginning of a week, in the middle of an uncertain month, in the middle of an uncertain season, nearing the end of a wearying year, that tiny little child in the face of death reminded me Who holds the season, Who holds time. I do not hold it- no, I dare not. But I should, and will, trust in Him, and in His timing, and in His ways.  His light is all I need in a darkening world.

    "In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it." (John 1:4-5)

  • facing grief

    Stories from the edge…


    The dark night of the soul…
    swirling and tumbling…
    hard edged realities that cut and maim…

    Oh yes.

    I know the edge well.

    I've dwelt on the very tip of it for months…
    fingers holding barely to the crumbling rock.

    And still, I must hold to the absurd notion that there is very much a Creator. Very much a God. Who loves me, who has ordained that I must walk this dark path for a ways.

    I see. I see Him everywhere. Even if there is a storm raging, He is always there.

    I will trust.

    "I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen, not
    only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else."

    C. S. Lewis Is Theology Poetry?

  • facing grief

    A farewell…

    On Friday, we said goodbye. James and I both had stuggled with the rapidity of everything that happened. To whit, many people referred to what had happened as 'the surgery'. Few would actually acknowledge that a life had been lost. So yesterday, we remembered. A beautiful painted rock done by a friend, placed high in the mountains of Shady Valley. We know the hidden spot and can return to it if we ever feel the need. A resting place, if not for the body, but for the grief and emotions that have circled since the little one's death. We cried, and prayed, and hoped. And we trusted.

  • facing grief


    It shatters in the stillness,
    It seems like extending outward and inward at the same time,
    and your soul can hardly grasp at it.
    Waves crash upon an unknown shore, and lighthouses seem ripped from moorings.
    Nothing is as it seems,
    and yet the world spins by, oblivious, alive.

    Thinking of Samantha tonight.
    Clinging to this:

    For the Lord will not cast off forever.
    Though He causes grief,
    Yet He will show compassion
    According to the multitude of His mercies.
    For He does not afflict willingly,
    Nor grieve the children of men.
    {Lamentations 3:31-33}

  • facing grief,  scrap happy


    As you all can imagine, I've been using the visual mediums to work through my grief.  Beka posted tonight, and she said what I am feeling so much better than I could ever quantify. And yet, even as my heart aches, so it aches so much more for Beka…my thoughts are with her as she struggles to take the next steps in her journey. I've always enjoyed "Life Means So Much" by Chris Rice (first one in the player), but it has now taken on such a deeper meaning to me. A friend asked me what I wanted for my birthday (next Tuesday) and I couldn't comprehend it…I just said "Nothing. I am just thankful to be alive, and that's gift enough to me." I struggle to comprehend that I was so close to death. It definitely comes in waves: the smallest thing will suddenly catch me unawares, and I just have to stop and cry and pray. Please continue to keep Beka and Mark in your prayers!