I feel it coming. Breathe deeper to hold it in. Feel my chest tightening and the lump in my throat grow bigger. No. I won’t ugly cry. To do so is to acknowledge she’s really gone. And I can’t. Won’t. Not just yet. Because sometimes it’s just too hard to accept reality. And death. And sorrow.
He draws me back to the Garden in my fighting. Back to where it all began. And I’m Eve. Not wanting to leave Paradise. Not wanting to face pain. Not wanting to accept death. But I’ve sinned. We have. And this is my curse, right? Yes. But is it also grace? Is God giving me grace when He whisks me from this world into His arms? Is that what He offered my Aunt Brenda? No more suffering. But peace with Him. Forever.
It doesn’t feel like grace. The warm tears feel like thorns. The emptiness like a weight I can’t bear. But I weep for myself. For my Mom. For my cousins. And God whispers, “But she wouldn’t come back. She’s seeing true grace.”
Yes! I will choose to believe it because He’s always been faithful. And I will pray for strength. To accept all as grace. Even this…
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” (Isaiah 43:2)