May 31

The ending of an enduring month. The spring pushed out by summer a bit early. The newness of changing seasons quickly replaced with heavy hung heat and a longing for rain. This met with a piercing pain sung with cries for death to come and end the perfectly long life my grandpa lived. It came with a final breath. The mortal flame -- extinguished.

Yet, when the weight of wait lifted, it left a ravine of sorrow and part of my life was plucked off. So now there is a return to the everyday but with a piece missing. Everywhere I go, I see my grandpa's smile. I see his hard work, his tenderness, his love, his spirit, and his joy. This is what I must graft into my soul. And it takes serious care. Thoughtful consideration, reflections, observation. It is an exercise, a discipline until it has taken and stays alive in me. I look at specific ways to change or move forwards. To know my Christ and his word and his teaching mostly. And with this, I want to write regularly. I want to practice new things. I want to be excited in the simplicity of a growing garden and a bowl of ice cream or a good cup of coffee. I want to purposefully set out to not complain but instead to find joy in all things and in all pain.

I want to give the life and the light of Christ to the poor, the wealthy, the sick, the healthy, the young, the old, the confused, the certain. And it begins with my family. My husband. My children. My church. My friend. And from there we will go and know that the life my grandpa lived is carried in me to others always. His life is not extinguished, but alive and well and moving.

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