In unbelievable fashion, a seemingly simple fever betrayed the seriousness of the situation. A friend from another time in life passed from this life and into eternity yesterday, surrounded by his family in a hospital bed.
And reflections of grief emerge through tears of remembrance, of heartache for his family, of hope for Jesus’ return. Come, Lord Jesus.
And as yesterday melds into today, I realize a shift in understanding, of embracing grief where before I would run and shun. For the tentacles of grief are not insipid and mean, as I so recently perceived. Instead, they are arms of tenderness, love, and compassion. In their far-reaching, slipping through cracks in the wall, and tugging one in close, they are not a python’s squeeze, but instead the call of the Savior reaching out and calling us in to lean on Him.
Leaning into grief, into the comfort of Jesus, changes grief from something to fear to a healing process of care.