Broken Roads of Hope

I have this picture hanging in my room.  I like it.  It's comforting.  It's a picture about journeys.  There are many that we take in life.  Some are grand adventures filled with beauty beyond our wildest dreams.  But some, some leave us broken hearted.  Scrambling to figure out what happened, we often wander away from the very One that can give us peace; that can mend those broken pieces of our hearts.

Five years ago I went through one of the hardest moments in my life; I lost my 16 year old niece to brain cancer.  It's a loss that hit hard, and I'd like to say that I've recovered, but do you ever really recover from grief?  And while I trust that God has everything in control, I still feel the sting.  Sorrow and heartache linger.  Most days you go about your daily life, not appearing to be affected, but no day goes by without a thought sent heavenward.  Wondering, missing.

I was only ten years old when I became an aunt.  One of the perks of having a blended family.  And I can honestly say it has been one of the most honored roles of my life.  They have brought me so much joy and I'm so proud of the young men and women they have grown up to be.  (And yes, it's sorta weird to say that because I'm not that old myself!)  I have so many fond memories with each one of them; all six.  They mean the absolute world to me.  But during this time of year I feel the shadow of sadness creep up and I find myself wanting to retreat into the dark crevices of grief.  Wondering what could have been, my mind gets lost in a sea of precious memories that I hold so dear to my heart.  Thoughts of a little girl, blonde hair and a smile that could light up a room...because she did!

Like the men in the picture, I often feel like I'm on the proverbial road to Emmaus.  Trying to make sense of the things of this earth.  Humanness. The questions that plagued me five years ago are still here today.  Because sometimes life takes us down roads that we don't want to take.  Things happen that just plain suck, that don't make sense and aren't fair.  What I'm learning though, is that it's ok to feel sad and it's ok to not understand.  Grief is a process. 

So, I'm going to keep moving forward.  Trusting.  I may never get the answers that I want.  And I may never make sense of the loss.  But that's ok.  I know Jesus is here.  Just as He was five years ago.  He's never left.  And I trust that one day the tears will be wiped away, the sting of loss will be gone and I will see her again.     



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