The storm serge comes in. I can see the waves of grief rising. Yes, it’s been 2 years and a handful of months seasoned with days. Time doesn’t make one immune to the side effects of loss. But rather it serves as a reminder of the moments you didn’t have, the milestones you did alone and the steps that drew you further from the days of togetherness. This easing of raw pain into a dull ache, stabbing reminders and eventually into moments of accepting a new name…. widow… is a journey that will span a lifetime. Raw emotions are transformed into the fuel that moves mountains and huge boulders, but also mole hills and small pebbles. For one whose experienced the depths of loss, moving the mole hills and small pebbles is as worthy of an epic celebration as moving the giant mountains and great boulders of life. The steps are excruciating, the battle is real and the strength it takes must be supernatural. God sees the way, He makes a path through and pours out his great and powerful love. As the storms serge and waves come in, I know, as they wash over my heart today, they will also receded and all this pain will not be for nothing. Not one tear will be wasted. Because when the tide comes in, think of the treasures that it washes in with it. Have you combed the beach of your grief storms? In the steps, after a mighty wave crashes over my heart, I usually find wave treasures as the tears slow. I’ve found precious friendships and seen others weathering their own storms. Their strength is a beautiful example, their brilliant lights shine from their hearts like a powerful lighthouse. Dear ones, who’ve become precious treasure I hold in my heart. Thank you for weathering the tide, the ups and downs, of my grief with me and putting up with my crazy metaphors to describe where I am at. Today is one of those hard stormy days.