My July: Remembering a little brown eyed Runner.

There is a weariness that goes beyond what I have done, what I have not done or my general overall health. It is a body that remembers. It remembers the terror and pain of a July night long ago. It remembers the nightmare of each July that followed. Summer and long hot days bring with it this weariness. God has healed my soul of much of the pain and fear of Leroy's death. Grief does not define who I am nor is it the focus of day to day living but July remembers. Granted this 2018 July has had it's own share of death and heartache but the weariness goes deeper than that.

Next week will be better. I will move past July 20 into relief. Something in me will relax. The dark side thoughts will disappear. The days will be cooler as we head into fall. This weary body will wake up and come alive once more. Energy will abound where none was found before.

Healing of grief is a long, slow process but it comes. Our God hears and heals. 

If you are weary in your journey, God promises that joy comes in the morning.

Weeping may endure for the night but joy comes in the morning

Weeping may endure for the night…

May is indefinite, possible to happen but not positive or absolute.

Joy comes in the morning…

Comes is a definite, positive, absolute statement of fact. Truth.

Joy is coming in the morning.

For joy to come in the morning means healing has happened. 

May you find healing on your journey.

May you find your morning.

Wear red shoes for courage.

The Time Between

Easter Saturday. The time between. "Weeping may endure for the night but joy comes in the morning." Weeping may endure...may is not a definitive word. It might happen. It might not. Joy comes in the morning is definitive. It will happen. Joy will come in the morning.

How do we get from the night of grief to the morning of joy? How do we do the between time? We lean into our grief. It is the normal reaction to the death of someone we love. We were not created for separation. We grieve much because we love much.

There are no shortcuts, or detours on the grief journey.
The only way is straight on through the night.
Shed every tear.
Feel every feeling.
Cry every cry.
Embrace every pain.
Remember every memory.
Look at every picture.
Savor every belonging.
Visit every place.
Write every word.
Sing every song.
Pray every prayer.
And somewhere along the way
you will find the morning light.

In the bleak loneliness of Saturday, we learn how much God loves us. He loves us so much. He misses us so much. He seperated Himself from the son He loves to breach that wall of separation. He sent Jesus to bring us home.

Friday is broken parting.
Saturday we wait and weep.
Sunday joy comes in the morning.

Blessed Easter and joy be to you all.

A Flashlight

It is funny how thoughts go. I was driving to Amanda's at 4 o'clock one afternoon. Most of the cars had their lights on but it wasn't dark. The thought came to me that if you were looking for something outside you wouldn't need a flashlight.

A flashlight.

A flashlight...

I had a flashlight that night. I don't know  what  it looked like. I don't know where I found it. The beam of that flashlight shone in the bushes. There he was but he wasn't.  I had a flashlight, then my world turned dark for days, for weeks, for months, for years. Twenty-seven years and the thoughts still come unbidden all because I was thinking about the lengthening light as I was driving late one afternoon. 

Waiting for the morning Leroy James.