I have had a remarkable week. It has been as full and beautiful as the preceding six weeks were desperate and ugly. Some of the reasons are easy to identify – I survived a minefield of paperwork and red tape, the administrative necessities that accompany death. The headaches have finally been relenting. I went back to work, which I love. All good things, but not good enough to account for this stunning increase of peace.
Peace, I’ve discovered, doesn’t actually diminish grief and that’s okay because I’m not looking to be free of grief. I think the Bible is clear that sorrow tethers us to the presence of God in a way that few other things can. Grief is my journey right now. It’s the weight that reminds me that I was the luckiest girl in all the world for 30 years, 5 months and 16 days. Healthy grief is good for me; I’m not going to pray it away. I am, however, quite desperate to be free of fear – and that’s the power of His promise of peace.
Today I feel peace. I feel beauty in the season and the weather and in the switch to a fall wardrobe and in my heart. I’m not going to worry about how I’ll feel tomorrow. Today is enough for today.