What Light Does

 A little overwhelming might be a way to describe it. God went above and beyond today. The way such a painful day could hold so much beauty. I should have known God would do that. He always shows up like that and I, hanging on to doubt to protect myself from disappointment, am always surprised. 

 I'm reading "A Grief Observed" by S.C. Lewis. It was recommended to me by my good friend and I barely got through the first paragraph without tears. It's brought up some emotions I haven't felt in a while. I found a journal entry from the week after she died. "I felt a strange pain in my chest and heard someone gasp before I realized I'd stopped breathing again and my lungs were taking over." Grief is most definitely something like fear. I'll quote Lewis, "I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep swallowing." I keep swallowing. That line. 

    I don't exactly know what I'm writing for. I'll be surprised if this makes it out of my inbox. Sunday night the big-ness of grief caught me by surprise and before I knew why I was sobbing on my bedroom floor in the middle of a workout... but the tears weren't from the reps. I saw her face, I saw the police standing guard at the entrance of the church at her funeral, I saw the fresh grave, the roses that were too red scattered over less red dirt. It felt stupid to be lying there with tears pooling under my head when she is dancing with pure joy. Why do I cry for one whose tears have all been wiped away? Am I crying for myself? How selfish of me, really. I don't wish her back for her sake. Only for mine, which can only be selfishness. But no matter how hard I try, I do not know how to stop being human. I cannot stop longing for this darkness to go away. I'm not supposed to. 

Today came and grace filled my lungs. The darkness didn't win that day. Darkness will never win when met with perfect light. My youth group joined me in intentionally carrying that light today. I read over their small acts of kindness and my eyes got not a little damp. It's so incredible, really, the way Heaven comes down to earth through the hands of people like us. People like me. The sun came out again. The sun shone two years ago as well, and I remember thinking how stupid it was that the sun was so bright on such a dark day. Today the sunshine was only another reminder of the goodness of God, and it felt like a physical representation of what I was attempting to do with flowers. 

The moon came out tonight. As physical darkness crept over my frosty town, the light continued to shine. Because light always continues into the darkest parts of us. That's what light does. And as the light goes forth, scattering darkness, the goodness of God keeps following us. And one day, that Light will become visible when we see Him face to face. I'm not in the frame of mind for shouting tonight, but the hymn of heaven is lighting my heart. And I hope it's lighting yours as well. 

Shalom, dear ones.