An Unexpected Journey

Tragedy struck our family last week.  Our church family.  A dear friend, an intercessor, a pillar in the church lost her only son on Wednesday.  He was a husband and a father and a brand new grandfather.  I missed a week of writing before spring break.  Then last week this loss engulfed me, and I just had no words.   Sunday this brave soul brought her grandson to church with her.  I watched as the body of Christ surrounded them with love and prayers and tears.  And it touched my heart.  When one part of the body hurts, we all hurt.  The words my husband said from the pulpit.  We all felt it, but it needed to be said.  We all needed to share in their grief.  To stop for a few minutes and wrap our arms around them.  I learned a long time ago that most words don’t mean much in deep grief.  Except the ones that say, “I am with you.”  The ones that say, “You are not forgotten.”  No one can walk your br...

I am sitting in my house looking out at a foggy world.  White mist blankets everything I can see, obscuring the details and leaving the imagination to fill in the blanks.  And sometimes life feels like this.  We can see an outline but clarity may escape us.  Propped up in the middle of my double window is a piece of wood with the words “It is well with my soul” engraved on the attached metal.   And it seems an oxymoron with that fuzzy world peering in through the windows behind the art.  The words are clear and bright and beautiful.  The view surrounding them is so withering and damp and uninviting.  There are days when life is just that way precisely, but there  are words that can be an anchor.  A centerpiece of stability for our hearts and minds.  His words.  Words of promise that we can hang everything on.  He doesn’t guarantee us that life will always go smoothly.  In fact, He promises us that in this world ...