Liz Rasley

So, lots of grief lately.  Ironic, touching, strange, a whole slew of emotions-especially all of the grief that  my friends and I have experienced right up to the hours before Easter Sunday.

And Easter Sunday: my friend who had complications and was just barely alive: winked, smiled, wiggled her toes.  Miraculous.  Both in big and small ways.

And she was a fighter, fiercely independent before-we didn’t think she would take anything lying down, but who were we to judge what God had planned for her? Regardless, we begged and pleaded with God; we bargained with Him as if that were to change His mind.

Which, I’m not sure if it did or didn’t, those are mysterious things that I may never know about or ever begin to understand.

However, what I do know is this: Grief and love and loss-all unlock a new level of caring and loving each time we pass through them.  Each time we get our heart-broken, we can elect to be more defensive, more protective of our hearts or we can become more vulnerable.  Same with grief and loss and hurt-it can paralyze us or we can use it to propel us forward, to new levels of depth and appreciation for life.

And, BTW-The softest, sweetest people I know are those who could have been hardened, mean, bitter. They so very much have the right to be bitter because of what life had handed to them.  But they choose not to.

And this is a silly, crazy little comparison-but it’s not unlike video games-you never know there is another level (of compassion, patience, love, etc.) to unlock until you get there.

And then what you find when you get there: the realization that it was there all along.