Abba,

I am learning something about grief.  It does not run an a predictable track.  It does not play by “the rules”.  Grief is an enigma that cannot be predicted.  The only predictable thing about grief is that it is not predictable.  The only “rule” is that there are no rules.  Sure, there are stages of grief that one can expect.  But the truth is, it is different for everyone.  And in truth, the moments you expect grief to rear its head; the moments you anticipate being hard, sometimes come and go with little to no affect.    Then, out of the blue, when you least expect it, the grief descends like an anvil on one’s head.  The sudden strike leaves you bewildered and dazed.  Those moments when you suddenly feel constricted as if wrapped like a cocoon with the life being squeezed  out of you leaves you breathless and confused.  The moments you can anticipate the grief sometimes surprise with how not so hard they are.  And those moments that you least expect, are harder than you could have possibly imagined.  At least in the anticipated moments, you can prepare.  You can ask for support, for prayer, for encouragement.  You can surround yourself with people who will lift you up before the throne of God when you feel to weak and overwhelmed to walk there yourself.  It is those moments that strike without notice, that cannot be predicted, that drop out of nowhere that are the hardest.  At least for me.  There is no warning, no preparation of what is to come.  They just strike, triggered by something you could not have anticipated. 

Almost a year after my father’s passing, eight months since my mother’s, these unexpected moments are less frequent and less intense, but they are still there.  The ache of longing for my parents presence is still there.  Somedays more potent than others.  I have to shove it down and push it away or else it will ravage everything.  If I think too long and hard upon it, I will create one of those crushing, squeezing moments.  Maybe it is not wise to shove it down and push it away, but who wants to be overcome by tears and grief all the time?  Not to mention, there never seems to be an opportune time to permit grief to express itself.  It invariably strikes at the most inopportune and awkward moments.  I suppose this makes the moments of explosion all the more volatile because of it.  

Ah, Abba…Abba…Abba….

How I ache for this time of separation to be at an end.  How I ache for that heavenly reunion and the eternal corporate worship of your being!  How I ache…

AND how thankful I am for your comfort and presence!  I WISH DEEPLY that it were a physical presence; that I could feel the strength of your arms enveloping me and embracing me tightly.  I wish I could feel the safety of your presence and not just KNOW it is there.  I sense it internally.  I know the peace that comes from your Spirit. I KNOW you are holding me.  I just cannot feel it yet.  This is the curse of living in the “already but not yet” reality of life on earth.  I LONG for the day when you will make our faith sight, when we will stand, kneel, and fall before your physical presence, Jesus, and nevermore be separated from you in ANY way. I ache for the day, the day that my parents are enjoying now, when nothing hinders communion and fellowship with you.  I ache for the day that all tears are wiped from my eyes and sorrow will be no more.

Oh, Abba, how thankful I am that you are my refuge, my hiding place from the sorrows and troubles of this life!  How could anyone, how does anyone manage without you to run to?  The sorrows of this life may be many and hard, but your mercy is more.  The grief and loss of this life may be overwhelming at times, but your mercy is more.  

Therefore, until the time of our reunion before your throne, I know that I can endure, that I can persist.  For it is not my strength I depend upon, but yours.  Thank you for being with me and walking with me through every sorrow, grief, and trial this life has to throw at me.  Thank you that none of them can defeat me but only draw me to you in greater intimacy.  Thank you that they can only sweeten the anticipation and the culmination of union with you.  And when the final day comes, how sweet it will be to know that my every grief, my ever tear has been wiped away by the tender and scarred hand that bears the marks of eternal love for me.  

I love you, Abba!

Thank you!