Grief

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Sometimes the news comes quick. Sometimes the news comes slow. No matter how or when it comes, grief travels in the wake of the news. Grief is heavy, weighty, a burden, especially when it involves someone deeply loved. Grief is not meant to be carried alone. It’s too heavy and may last a while—and that’s ok. That’s what family and friends are for, to share the load. Jesus stood outside the tomb of his friend and wept but He did not weep alone. It was a deep, human moment. “ Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted ” (Matt 5:4). If anyone knows how we feel in grief, it’s Him. But His grief did not linger long, as at the mention of his name, Lazarus came forth. We are not meant to dwell in grief, but should leave room enough for it. Let it run its course. Like the song says, “ Every Storm Runs Out Of Rain .” Another song says, “ The storm We will dance as it breaks The storm It will give as it takes And all of our pain is washed away Don't cry or be afraid Some things...

The Wind

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I am working through some things, given all life's changes in the last few weeks. This virus thing is nothing compared to what I've encountered and the very least of my worries. Don't get me started on what I think of this virus thing. 

A metaphorical tornado swept through life and I'm doing my best put on my bravest face. The destruction is both deep and wide.

Then along came to a very real tornado in the midst of everything else going on. I spent a few days cutting up trees, working and waiting patiently for my garden to set (which it has) and sprout (which it is doing). 

My wife is working on a literary analysis of a section of Ann Petry's 1946 novel, "The Street".  The novel opens with descriptions of the wind-swept city street, which is an implied metaphor of what the main character feels inside. 

There is not much more to say except I thought of these two songs:   


and the bluesy sound of


To conclude: 

We can only grow the way the wind blows
On a bare and weathered shore
We can only bow to the here and now
In our elemental war
We can only go the way the wind blows
We can only bow to the here and now
Or be broken down blow by blow

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