“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.”
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

I really did have to dust off my keyboard. it's been lonely lately.  As I continue to grieve the loss of a dear sweet friend, I'm quite surprised at the weight of this burden.  Grief is a heavy load! It's been a consuming force at times.

I didn't expect this leg of my journey to be easy (that's why I became a stuffer in the first place). However, going through the grieving process for really the first time and allowing myself to feel the pain of loss can feel almost tangible Some days. Tears begin flowing for no apparent reason.

Most days, I forget.

  Only to remember that I can't pop around the corner and say something silly to make her laugh, or shoot her a text about something silly my son said or did.

 I really miss our walks around the pond.

These days, since we laid her to rest, I find myself obsessed with the skies. Looking for "signs" and I think this is one of the ways I've resorted to coping.

 I search the clouds for heart shaped holes.

The skies seem brighter and bluer. The cloudy, rainy days  seem to always have a moment where the sun peeks out even for a moment. I've seen more rainbows in the past two months than ever.  I like to think it's a smile and a wave.

I read a post recently by a fellow blogger and kindred-friend, Bonnie Gray.  She wrote  In the bitter there is also a sweetness.
 In this post she shares a tearful conversation between Jesus and her:

What you’re calling me to do is too hard.
I don’t know how long this is going to take.
It is too painful, too bitter.
This life you’re asking me to live is too quiet. To small.
But, I am willing.
I followed you — when life was good and I was strong.
I will follow you now — that life is hard and I am weak.
I will do whatever you ask me to do.
But, I need something beautiful.
I need something sweet.
What I’m enduring is bitter, but I do not want to turn bitter.
Give me beauty.  Keep my heart alive.
So when you’ve led me through every drop of hardness, I want my heart to be soft, kind and gentle — like yours.
I want to be like you, Jesus.  

This post has been on my mind for weeks and I've turned it over and over in my mind like a smooth stone in my pocket.

I try to find some sweetness in each day. I've always been a "look for the good in everything" type but after being dealt this hand, it's not been an easy task.
So, I  look for the sweet with more intention.

Slowing down to savor this beautiful sunset.

Maybe there is a little sweet wisdom in the middle of a fortune cookie?

A quiet morning drive full of fall colors and blue skies.

Where is God in the middle of grief?

"We cannot understand. The best is perhaps what we understand least." 
C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

I did talk to our pastor recently about This thing called grief. Where I'm at, how I'm getting along, what's next.

We talked about many things. I think the hardest part for me, is the fact that it still doesn't feel real just yet. in my mind it's like she's on vacation. Even though, her desk is freshly occupied by another person.

Where is God in the middle of all of this?

God is near. He is very near to the brokenhearted.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18 NIV

I find that He allows me to comfort others and in turn, I am comforted.

Our Pastor gave me the perfect analogy about grief.  He likened it to burning your hand on a roasting pan.
You know that moment when you grab something out of the oven and without thinking, you grab the handle or use your unprotected hand to help pull it out of the scalding oven?
Once you quickly set the searing pan down(or drop it on the floor), you end up plunging your hand into cold water for relief (and screaming in pain?).  After assessing the burn, you apply some healing balm and bandage the wound. The wound throbs and gives you much discomfort. each day thereafter, it begins the healing process.
you care for it gently. Moving or stretching your fingers cause twinges of pain and you remember the burn.
Eventually, new skin begins to form a scar over the burn.

New skin.

  There will always be scars with grief. Loved ones that we lose, we'll never forget. There will always be the memories of the scar that's left behind. But the pain, the pain of the burn.  In time, it subsides.
The scar, its always there. maybe it grows very faint over the years but you can still see it. A translucent layer of thicker skin.

The holidays are fast approaching and I can see this year will be very different. When I pull out the ornaments and decorations. There I'll find my snowman collection that she helped me start. the few decorations I put up at work that she made or purchased for me. The cards I've kept with the signature smiley face under her signature.
One day, I'll be able to look at all of this and maybe, just maybe it won't feel like that excruciating burn.

 Maybe I'll look at it, see the scar and smile.

Smile and be thankful that God brought her into my life for the short time that he did.

Linking today with The Faith Barista.


  1. Oh Krista, I'm so sorry the pain and loss is still burning so badly. Thank you for being transparent and sharing it with us. I have missed your posts. Wow! God is surely with you though. Rainbows, beautiful sunsets and views, and even such relevant fortune cookie wisdom. Praying for healing and peace for you! Hugs!

    1. aww, thank you Trudy! I've missed being here! :)
      Taking it day by day and looking for the sweet!