A quiet morning sitting along the shoreline beach of Hawaii, a picturesque view where my six-year old granddaughter feeds the waves with sand food served from a menu of her imagination; an hour of calm for me as the ocean soothes the soles of my weary feet with every wave that crashes up against them.
Sometimes the weight of heavy burdens takes its toll on our feet which does its best to keep us standing strong, as burdens though were never meant to be carried. But every now and then God sits his children down beside the shores of cool water and allows the singing and washing of the waves minister gently to our tired spirit.
It’s been a year like no other; adding the weight of the recent month just passed of so many good-byes, so many tears poured out remembering another loved one. A mother…a brother ‘n law and now a brother. Navigating grief that maiden year of so many “firsts” presents itself without a map which adds to the pain. Magnify that voyage times three and your shoulders buckle under weight of heartache.
I once read that…
Grief never ends…but it changes.
It’s a passage not a place to stay.
Grief is not a sign of weakness nor a lack of faith..
It is the price of love.
Author Unknown.
Better to love than never love at all;
Remembering the price of love will one day be paid in our parting good-bye.
The price of love recently expressed from my brother’s wife…
How I miss you baby.
The flesh in me just wants you back for one more kiss,
One more hug and one more I love you.
I feel so empty, but after 46 years with this beautiful man, how else could I feel.
Until we meet again baby, I will carry you in my heart forever.
You made my life complete.
Love you and miss you so much.
Your wife…
This trip to Hawaii was an unexpected one for me; a trip actually scheduled for someone else. But plans changed; life’s wisdom to always have a bag packed when God’s calendar reveals a secret.
Accompanying my granddaughter home after a three week stay with family came as I gift God knew I needed; while His reasons have yet to be unveiled. 
Though a ten hour flight and a five hour time difference, all these good-byes can’t be abandoned in baggage claim.
The luggage of our heavy hearts must be unpacked.
We must be willing to open the luggage of our good-bye, hold what’s inside, savor the moments and in time unique to each, be willing to put away our bags, and leave the intersection of Holding On and step into the street of Moving Forward.
But as my Father sits beside the shores of cool water with me and allows the singing and washing of waves to minister to my tired spirit.
I hear Him gently reminding me…
Be willing with…
One moment at a time…
One breath at a time…
One step at a time…
One memory at a time…
and
Let Him shoulder the rest.
