Grief is hard, but grieving alone can be a torment of anguish, so we sit with the broken; we are silent and Shiva to the tears.
When my father cried loud and hard, I experienced a kind of solidarity in my grief. A child had died, and a funeral was had. I placed a small small casket into a tiny hole. It’s still there now.
Friends and family gathered and shared the loss. Yet, it still catches me whenever I drive past the resting place of one who never drew breath.
Life in this broken world can hand you questions and harshness that no answers can satisfy.
There is a time for everything.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: A time to be born and a time to die, a time to weep, a time to mourn, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to be silent and a time to speak. Ecclesiastes 3
But some people don’t know the times and the seasons for being quiet and sitting with brokenness. To sit with the sorrow of loss.
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