I sat half-heartedly engaged as we spent a rainy afternoon watching episodes of Marvel’s, WandaVision.

My ever growing Pinterest boards gained new levels of organization; as projects received their own categories, based on level of expected completion.

My attention suddenly shifted back to the television as the scene took on a tender note and the following line was uttered.

“But what is grief, if not love persevering?”

Phone cast aside… I grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

For weeks, I had been trudging through, as familiar emotions bubbled beneath the surface.

I had walked this road before; in fact, this road was worn and muddy.

A path we have traveled for a decade.

Until those words were uttered, I was fairly certain I had gained complete control over this area.

Nevertheless, when I scrolled aimlessly through social media, my throat clenched as images raced before me.

I awoke early the next morning, with lyrics from a Paula Abdul song running through my mind.

“I take two steps forward, I take two steps back…”

Ok, 90’s kids, I know what you’re thinking, this song has absolutely nothing to do with grief.

And you are correct, I just wanted to provide a little insight into this tangled web.

After humming a few bars, another thought surfaced.

The stages of grief are not linear.

It seems the moment acceptance is achieved, a milestone, nightmare, or memory surfaces and I spiral back to denial.

I could finally name the conflicting emotion I was experiencing while perusing social media.

Heartbreak.

Plain and simple, my fragile heart was cracked.

Again.

My perpetual state of grief, triggered by -

images of happy families.

images of workplace antics.

images of “normal” life.

Images that served as a reminder of everything that my barrenness and differently-abled body erased from our reality.

As quickly as the internal chatter formed, I redirected my thoughts, and a still small voice spoke peace into my soul.

“I am with you, daughter.” Psalms 34:18

“Your pain has a purpose.” Romans 5:3-5

“I will use your story, for my glory.” Romans 8:18

I parked my thoughts in the comfort of my Savior’s promises.

Our story has purpose.

Our well-worn road toward healing, matters, regardless of my ability to produce a snapshot for the world to view.

And the message of God’s faithfulness while walking with us through our mess, has tremendous potential.

Potential to fill people with hope.

Potential to point people to the cross.

Potential to allow people the freedom to grow through their grief.

Grief, that offers an invitation,

to persevere in LOVE!

Maybe today you find yourself navigating a season of grief: whether the loss of a person, or a carefully planned tomorrow.

May you rest in the comfort offered through God’s word and trust that He has a plan for your life.

May you find comfort in this prayer, lifted up on your behalf.

Lord,

In the midst of my pain and grief, I praise you. My heart aches for the loss l've experienced.

My heart is broken. But you are close to the brokenhearted (Ps 34:18).

You are a God who is familiar with pain. Yet you remain closer than my very breath. You keep track of all my tears, and each one is collected in your bottle (Psalm 56:8). Not a single tear goes unnoticed.

You are the resurrection and the life, yet you wept tears of sorrow with Mary and Martha (John 11:33-35). You are filled with compassion, and you deeply feel my pain.

Hold me in your arms, and carry me though the valley. (Psalm 23:4) Help me to remember that you will never leave or forsake me. (Deuteronomy 31:8)

In Jesus Name,

Amen