sometimes the biggest grief we wear in life is shed like a heavy coat….one sleeve at a time. gradually weight of it slips down to floor and we are free to hang it in this life’s closet.
real. present. but aside.
sometimes small grief stays in the lining of our lives…
like tiny weighted pieces like sand lining pockets and hem after day spent on ocean’s shore, we carry it with us:
unexpected endings and not-by-choice goodbyes.
place and plans we see for ourselves close to given up on in their so-far-out-of-sight.
sorry needing to be said or heard but bridge not built yet.
body full to brim with what we swallowed to hold back too hard to feel.
in god’s grace we are bumped into:
photograph that spills open memories.
reconcile’s open door.
mirror on all sides.
then and now come together in god’s grip to shake sand and grief free.
surprise of it.
recognition of been-there-all-along.
gritty substance of grief’s sand between fingers demanding we recall the coming from.
to see real. to see present. to see to setting aside.
blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
matthew 5.4 (NIV)
for the MK and TCK