Deaths Dark Shadows...

 Death, all moral men and women must face its cold, dark sting. I can remember more deaths since my childhood than I can count on two hands.  Great-Grandma Brauser, Great-Aunt Elizabeth, Grandma Houser, Great-Aunt Norma, Grandpa Fitzpatrick, Grandpa Houser, Samuel, Uncle Bob, "Uncle" Phil, Cousin Bobby Jo, Grandma Fitzpatrick, Uncle Charlie, Aunt Nelda, Randi, Aunt Jewel, Andrew and those are just the ones I can remember...

Some people look at death as a dark angel, some as a bringer of mercy, some as a dark valley, and others the dark river we each must cross through...and each is right in their own way.  Each of those terms come from different places in the Word.  Angel of death from the last plague in Egypt. Bringer of mercy from Job and Paul.  Dark valley from Psalms 23.  Dark river from various Scriptures as well as Pilgrims Progress.  The view, as a ragamuffin and a believer I cling to the most, is it means at last I am with Jesus in my eternal home, no longer to be beaten up in the school of hard knocks.

But how does one hold on through it all?  How does one survive through the school of hard knocks and continual loss knocking at ones doorway?  There is only one way I have learned that sustains me, and that is leaning fully on God's arms.  Nothing, not cutting, not caffeine, not hanging out with friends cuts the loss deep with in.  Not even the strong arms of my beloved husband wrapped around me can cut through.

Only the Lord's loving and tender care has pulled me through.  But how might one ask?  Of that all I can say is, each of us comes to that place differently.  For me, it was Him faithfully caring for me over and over and over through these hard times.  All I can say is, when you feel Him the least in these times, press in all the more.  He is with us through them, and know I pray for all those who share this sorrow as I do, too...

~ Morria