Circumstances may appear to wreck our lives and God’s plans, but God is not helpless among the ruins.                                                                 Eric Liddell

The Lord cares deeply when his loved ones die.            Psalm 116:15

I’ve kept a journal off and on since middle school, and in the last many years, that journal has become less a record and more of a conversation with God. Finding the time to be alone/create a space for that quiet and introspection was not always easy, with kids who had to catch the bus at ungodly hours, and then the adoption of a cat who acts more like a toddler and never wants me out of his sight.  So last May, I finally decided to take over the basement.  I could shut the door on the cat and actually focus. Plus, with Mark home for the summer, I borrowed his Keurig so I could brew my required cup of coffee without needing to go to the kitchen (which is near where the cat is kept at night – I know: ridiculous) at all. This space has become my sanctuary.

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I’ve never minded being the center of attention at times – I’ve served as president of organizations, led worship at church, spoken publicly.  But as we drove back home and my daughter and I scrolled through hundreds and hundreds of Facebook comments and messages on our phones, we could feel the swell of the wave that would carry us through the next days, weeks and months…and also overwhelm us at times. Our hearts were not the only ones broken…our Mark had traveled through life like a ray of sunshine, a friend to all he met. And the tragic and untimely loss of a young person touches even the hearts of strangers.

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I’d called a funeral parlor (one near our home) in my “fug [yes, it’s a word] of grief,” the night before. Even as we spoke, I knew we would not need their services. The gentleman showed no humanity, no sense of humor when I said, half-jokingly, that we wanted to take Mark’s ashes and split them up into portions we could carry around in our purses. I can’t do business with someone like that.
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