Thank you for this. If I were sitting beside you or across from you as you spoke these words, I would be nodding and tears would freely and quietly flow because yes, I know, I truly do know. May these days be kind to you.
Amen. Death really does ruin everything, doesn't it? I don't think any of us ever finish processing it, and it really is the thing that moves me to know God and seek transcendence.
I was taught and trained as a boy how not to cry. 50 years of tears are stored up somewhere within me. I want to grieve the suffering of Jesus, with tears and deeper gratitude. Thank you for writing and reminding us. And we remember you and your family in prayer.
Giving time, time. You are showing me the way to my heart, Steve. “Ambush” is the perfect word for how grief loves to make its triumphal entry…it’s multiple sneak attacks come when THEY are ready but not when I am ready which was yesterday. Art stirs the heart and is the birthing doula for helping us to give birth to the grief being born in us. That is why I love what Juliet Benner taught me about Visio Divina…to allow my eyes to bear witness to the beauty of Peter Bruegel masterpiece Census or his very busy work called Golgatha. But the masterpiece that has helped me access my grief best Steve…is friendship with you, and a handful of other dear soul friends. You have been a grief doula for me.
Goodness sakes! Well Hayne, you have somehow stumbled into your book to write now. “ The Grief Dula: How to serve those who grieve for what has died”. We need this book and no one more quailed than you! Write! Write for your soul!
I appreciate your honesty & vulnerability. Grief is a strange friend. Stops by when I least expect it or want it. Praying for you, Gwen & your family. May this Easter weekend bring some peace & comfort.
Thank you for this. If I were sitting beside you or across from you as you spoke these words, I would be nodding and tears would freely and quietly flow because yes, I know, I truly do know. May these days be kind to you.
Thank you
Amen. Death really does ruin everything, doesn't it? I don't think any of us ever finish processing it, and it really is the thing that moves me to know God and seek transcendence.
On this side of Easter, it seems that way!
As tears puddle in my eyes the only words that come are Thank You.
I know you know. I’m sorry. Easter blessings!
I was taught and trained as a boy how not to cry. 50 years of tears are stored up somewhere within me. I want to grieve the suffering of Jesus, with tears and deeper gratitude. Thank you for writing and reminding us. And we remember you and your family in prayer.
Step by step. You’re more alive now than before! Less graveclothes!
Giving time, time. You are showing me the way to my heart, Steve. “Ambush” is the perfect word for how grief loves to make its triumphal entry…it’s multiple sneak attacks come when THEY are ready but not when I am ready which was yesterday. Art stirs the heart and is the birthing doula for helping us to give birth to the grief being born in us. That is why I love what Juliet Benner taught me about Visio Divina…to allow my eyes to bear witness to the beauty of Peter Bruegel masterpiece Census or his very busy work called Golgatha. But the masterpiece that has helped me access my grief best Steve…is friendship with you, and a handful of other dear soul friends. You have been a grief doula for me.
Goodness sakes! Well Hayne, you have somehow stumbled into your book to write now. “ The Grief Dula: How to serve those who grieve for what has died”. We need this book and no one more quailed than you! Write! Write for your soul!
May God hold you both in this space. You are deeply loved.
I appreciate your honesty & vulnerability. Grief is a strange friend. Stops by when I least expect it or want it. Praying for you, Gwen & your family. May this Easter weekend bring some peace & comfort.
I love this, Steve. and your vulnerability and love for the soul. Grief is tricky. Youve given me permission to wait, not hurry.