the sting

I realized tonight that a big part of me wearily keeps thinking, "I'll be so glad when all this is done and things are back to normal."  

Things will never be back to normal again. This will be the normal. The grief hits me fresh.

Just like sometimes missing mom still hits me new and hard.  

I like to boldly taunt with Paul, Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?

It has no victory, that I know and trust and see He defeated...that I find peace in. 

But it's sting? That I'll not be rid of this side.

Dad is so weary of this suffering, so ready to be finally free of the body that has so deeply been defeated. He grows heavy by long days of sleep, sleeplessness and pain.

Pray for Matt and Cindy as they love him well and broken, for Dad.

Swaddle me in your grace, O Spirit

I return to you your gifts

Cradle me in your mercies, O Christ

I return to you your glory

Hide me in your love, O Father

I return to you, your child

Grateful for the people who are finding ways to love us well in the middle...helping get kids where they need to go, meals, sweet texts, thoughtful prayers, taking a minute. Grateful.