One of the beautiful things this week has been watching people I love share themselves online, in ways that are brave and vulnerable. Their words, songs, etc, have been an encouragement and a balm to my soul. I’m going to join in.

It means I’m about to do two things I don’t usually do here. The first is share something this fresh and raw, and the second is get a little preach-y. (You’ve been warned. 😉 )

(Here’s the playlist that goes with this morning.)

Every morning I walk and pray. I’m not quite sure how to describe what happens in this time – but sometimes, things come up in my soul that God is going to speak to. (Later in the day, later in the week, through circumstances, through others,…) Any wholeness and joy that I have experienced particularly in the last few years usually traces back to these times.

It’s not the norm, these days, but this morning, I am grieving.

A friend who has been battling cancer is dying. (Actually, he’s not really my friend, but several of his family members are dear to me.) He’s young, he has 4 kids, a beautiful wife, and has spent his life serving others. My heart aches for his family as they sit with him in what is likely his final days.

I accidentally fell in love with a couple of people.  They were (are) unexpectedly amazing: funny, insightful, considerate, generous, servant-hearted, and just the right amount of strange. They departed earlier than expected last weekend for a flatter place, and I miss them already.

And I miss Beatrix. I was recalling some of my favourite moments with her. These memories bring me great joy, and also sadness at how they are so much fewer than they should have been.

I got home from my walk to a text from my dad, saying “Beatrix would have loved this: ‘Wash hands?’  ”       (She really did love to wash her hands.)

So I’m waiting. I’m letting this rise to the surface, with every confidence that God has something to say to this.

The last few months Mike and I have been doing a course, and today our final project is due. I’m finishing up my paper, that looks at some of the final bits of the Bible.

Now – the book of Revelation is somewhat intimidating and strange, I’ll admit. But the final chapters show the heart and intention of God. They show the reason for my hope:

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death will be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”    And He who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.”

It’s all so beautiful. So as I’m sitting with my pain this morning, but with the full confidence that, as He always has, my God will meet me here.