This is not intended to be a blog about death, dying, and grief. It’s supposed to be about life. I love life; hence, my tagline: “Observations from a life lover.” But I’ve learned that death is a part of this present life.

The view that I have of life after having lived a half century is not quite as rosy as the one with which I began. Things are not so neatly tied up with a bow. There are lots of loose ends. Life is messy.

Life is hard. In fact, it’s downright brutal at times!

Bad stuff happens. Sad stuff happens. Sometimes it’s a result of our own selfish decisions made outside of God’s will, sometimes it’s a result of simply not knowing better, sometimes our lives are affected by another’s actions, sometimes it’s an outright attack of the evil one, and sometimes it’s the result of living in a fallen, decaying world.

BUT GOD. (Here comes the good part. Because God IS good.)

God is the All-Sufficient One. I’m talking about Jehovah God, the Almighty One True God. The One who sent His son Jesus to wipe away our sin along with the resulting pain, shame, and guilt. Stuff happens! Jesus said it would! He said, “In this world you will have troubles, but be of good cheer, because I have overcome the world!” When we invite this world overcomer into our lives (first, into our hearts; then, into every fabric of our lives)–we will be MORE than conquerors! He always provides a way of escape. He is always a very present help in time of trouble. He always walks WITH us through the valley of the shadow of death. He always provides a way out of every temptation. He is, quite simply, the ANSWER.

I don’t have all the answers, but I know Jesus–THE Truth, THE Life, THE Way. He doesn’t offer pat answers. He offers Himself.

And He is enough. He is MORE than enough.

When the crap comes, He is available in so many ways: as peace, comfort, wisdom–in fact, whatever is needed for the situation. Because He is enough, and more.

I prefer to understand everything. I prefer to have everything wrapped in a neat package. But quite frankly, it ain’t gonna happen (in this life). No matter. REALLY. No matter. I release that need to know all and understand all. That’s called trust. It sounds so simple. It’s not. But when I do it, when I decide to trust Him, OH! Well! He does marvelous things and makes the messy into a message. Thank You, Lord!

Today I went through Emily’s clothes.

Immediately after Emily’s earthly departure, her husband bagged everything up and put it in storage, unable to deal with the process of going through everything at that point.

Then he called today and asked if I wanted to come pick up her things. I said yes.

Upon arriving back at home, I began slowly untying each garbage bag full of her clothes, looking inside to see items so familiar, still full of her scent. Each item with it’s own story. The air-brushed t-shirt she and her husband bought at the fair last year. Her favorite warm-ups that she just about wore out. The fluorescent colored socks that she used to wear, mismatched–I don’t think there were two of the same color. The skinny, before-baby clothes. Shoes.

It hurts pretty bad. I mean, it hurts REAL bad.

I really only have ONE comfort: that I KNOW I will see her again. That’s my main, overriding comfort.

And there are other, smaller comforts, such as knowing that the last couple of years of her life were mostly very happy. And knowing that she is happy and healed and free at this very moment and every moment to come.

And of course, there is her baby. That sweet baby who has such a hold on my heart.

The discarded clothes are leftovers of a life left too soon. They have no value except for the memories they evoke of their owner, a blond-haired blue-eyed beauty with a happy countenance and a gentle spirit.

She left the clothes, and she left the body, which was essentially her earth-clothes.

No matter what age I live to, I’ll be seeing her real soon.

Once upon a time, I listened to whatever music I liked, generally worship music. And when I like a song, I listen to it over and over, and it becomes a part of me and my world and my brain and the soundtrack of my day and my dreams at night. Usually, this is a beautiful thing.

Then, along came a grandbaby. When she was about 10 months old, I thought I would introduce her to the alphabet through the world of technology–an app on my iPhone. One such app has a catchy tune for each letter of the alphabet, and Brooklyn LOVES to listen to them.

Now the soundtrack to my life sounds something like this: “Hooray! Hooray! Hooray for A!”

I don’t think I’d have it any other way.