Grief

It's taken me some time to realize that I am a crier. It's obnoxious that my first go-to response is tears: for frustration, for anger, for helplessness, for stress. Sometimes I'm able to marshall that a little bit, but most of the time the tears are as suprising to me as to the emotion that accompanies them.

This March has been, like the previous three,a piling upon of bad news on bad news. Last week, the mother of my little sister's best friend has been diagnosed with cancer. This week, a much loved member of the congregation dies, leaving his family (several of his children and grandchildren who I am close to) and friends grieving.

And so I've cried. I've cried because people that I care for are hurting. I cry because I know that there are harder times coming for the my little sister's best friend and her family. I've cried because I know that there is a lot of grief and a family that is hurting.

In all this though, I know that there is the comfort that Christ gives, and that on Easter Sunday, he welcomed home his own beloved child. I know there is comfort found in the strength of my sister and her friendship. I remember the promises found in 2 Corinthians...

"All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. We have plenty of hard times that come from following the Messiah, but no more so than the good times of his healing comfort—we get a full measure of that, too."