The fluidness of grief

We celebrated child #6's birthday on the 29th. Though it was a "29th" (the day our 16yo. son died), the day was a good one. Of course, Mr. Stoic (Matt) came to our minds many times on Saturday, but grief wasn't at the forefront or the center of attention. It doesn't often overwhelm anymore. Instead, it has transformed into a dull ache. The raging tsunami of grief that characterized the beginning of the journey now lies quietly like a puddle.

I find myself often perplexed at this changing state of sorrow. It is a curious thing to witness while in the midst of it. It feels a bit disorienting, this life melded with death. As if somehow I'm supposed to figure out how the scales of joy and sorrow balance. Yet I am unequipped and feel very much like a bystander. I am not the one who weighs out the trials and blessings in this temporary life. It is God. He is the potter, and we are the clay. (Isaiah 64:8, 45:9, 29:16) I do, however, get to decide how I respond to these trials, to this shaping and molding. Maybe I'm not supposed to figure out how the scales work, but instead, to accurately reflect the weight of what has been deposited upon each.

I am thankful this week for weighing joy. The joy of memories, the joy of birthdays with little boys (two in one week!), and the joy of studying His word, precept upon precept.