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...