ThirstyFountains

We are going to die. (Great way to open the post, right?). Death is a reality we have to accept. There is such a poverty in death, a vulnerability. We don't know when we will die. Death can come suddenly, when you least expect it. It can approach slowly without remorse as it does with sickness and cancer. But it comes. The question is: will you be prepared? How many of us can say, "I regret nothing. If I died today, everyone I have ever loved would know it." ? However, until we die... let us live. Victoria Erickson tells us to "feel our lives while we are in it." (tbh when I started writing this post I had something completely different in mind but stay with me haha). Back to the poverty note above... The night of the Last Supper, Jesus reached His hand out to wash Peter's feet. But Peter pulled away. He couldn't let the Messiah, the King of the entire world, touch his feet. To most of us, our feet are the unpresentable, dirty, almost ugly part of oursel...

                                       One of the many moods of grief is a kind of numbness, a pain so deep and pervasive that nothing seems to be able to ripple its surface. This perhaps is a benign form of anesthesia, giving our senses time to rest a bit before we reenter the whirlpool of torn lives, of shattered dreams, of anguished tears.      As will all other moods of grief, it will pass. To know this is just a stoic acceptance of what it is. It is to be reminded that there are seasons of grieving -- and like the plunge into frost after a balmy day of spring, or like an Indian summer, these mini-seasons are not predictable. But they will pass, and they have their own inner logic. Sometimes the best we can do is say, "Okay, That's how it is today. What can I do that is most compatible with this mood?" Then, we go on about whatever business (or lack of) tha...