It’s been six weeks since I have seen you.
Six weeks since my world changed forever.
Six weeks of clinging every moment to what I know and believe.
Six weeks of driving by the place you drew your last breath;
your last moments that I didn’t share.
And I still cry out to God. . .
I choose to switch my thoughts to the Creator of the Universe.
I choose to praise God for the day and ask for his guidance.
And I fling (ok, painstakingly roll) myself out of bed.
Because sometimes I would rather stay there. I would rather just pull the covers over my eyes and remain in the dark.
But who is that serving?
If I serve the God of the Universe who has called all things into being; then I can trust with all my heart that this is the plan set in motion for me.
But God does not leave us without hope or encouragement.
Abundant Grace has visited the farm.
Wild and unmeasured.
When A Community Grieves was a post I wrote the night of Elijah’s wake.
Today we are experiencing How a Community Serves.
And we are overwhelmed and amazed by the outpouring of support.
People would ask what they could do to help us. . .We never knew how to respond.
Our son resides in Glory. . .there is not much anyone can do.
We all feel helpless.
Gary mentioned to someone that our family uses about 40 cords of wood to heat our outdoor boiler at the barn and then one at the house.
Splitting wood is something that is needed.
One man had a desire. . .and he is sharing wild grace with this heartbroken family.
Is this what Jesus meant about living in community?
More than fifty people shared this one man’s desire.
Log splitters, trailers and tractors have poured onto our property.
By 9 o’clock there were huge piles of wood at both the house and the barn.
They were fed and given water.
There was much work done in a day.
It is hard to receive this amount of grace. .
And my eyes fill again with the tears that fall so freely.
We are not alone. . .
Not for a moment do I want to take my eyes off of Jesus.
I seek him each morning and long for his comfort.
He sends it in the form of his people. ..
He sends it is the form of his Holy Spirit.
He speaks through his Word.
I hold tight to these things.
I know. . .this is what it means to be loved. . .to be held. . .
Praise the Lord, my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.