We gathered.
Together.
Our family.
In so many ways.
The ebb and flow of life.
It thrills.
It hurts.
We press on.
Reaching for what is truth;
for what is real.
Searching for meaning.
The loss of a child.
The sequential order; interrupted.
Life, defied.
A gash, a hole, an emptiness.
It can’t be repaired.
It can’t be replaced.
Yet, somehow a filling begins.
Slowly.
Be patient with yourself.
Be patient with others.
Grief is work.
The Holy Spirit softly and quietly fills and soothes the ache.
The roaring pain eased.
It will surface again and again.
But for a time.
Our spirit calm.
His grace poured out.
Psalm 62:5
Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him.
Living.
Seeking.
Breathing in the holy.
It is in how we live this life that reflects the Holy One.
We give of ourselves, so that He may manifest himself through us.
We gathered around the tree.
The laughter of children permeating this old farmhouse.
We ate.
We drank coffee.
We visited around the farmhouse table.
We’re learning,
step by step how to create a new path;
how to put what is important. . .first.
