SHE

There’s nothing quite like the balance of holding grief and faith in tandem. I can believe in the sure and certain hope of our resurrection with Christ in God’s kingdom, while weeping in the pain of loss on earth. My heart overflows to bursting when I think of the broken hearts of those of us left behind, all the while giving thanks that my person will no longer know pain. There is no way out, but through. And so we must soldier on.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matthew 5:4

She was ocean. She could roar like thunder or meet you serene. She had breadth and depth uncharted. But she’d greet you with frothy mirth and make you feel at home. A force. She moved with the moon. She’d fill you up as long as she could, and surround you, to bolster you on a wave of her strength, and guide you back to shore. Whenever she receded, she left you remembrances, glimmering, like shells on the shore—eyes dancing blue green sunshine on the surface of the sea.

For Katie. 10/28/83-8/19/23