It has been a tumultuous couple of years. I suppose, as much at is rather not admit it, I’m aging. Which means people close to me are aging as well.
It means change.
Learning to adapt to changing bodies, energy levels, interests…
It’s axiomatic. The older get, the more people we lose. Like in this last year, we lost my wife’s beloved grandma, a close family friend…
Grief has become a constant companion. If not so much overtly anymore, it’s still there just beneath the surface. And it doesn’t have a timetable. It just is. Time itself heals nothing, and closure seems to be just an abstract concept, an illusion. I don’t think we’re ever really over the loss of those close to us.
There’ll be a memory, a familiar place, a previously shared experience which brings those piercing pangs of grief right back…
Life is hard. And it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. More is required of me, expected of me, as I’m closing in on 50 than ever before. The only answer I know is Jesus. And that his grace is for the cracks.
And the crackpots like me.