broken and beautiful

Well it's been a minute or two since my last post. If I am quite honest, I just became bored with this blog.  I had run out of things to say or I didn't want to take the time to write down the things I wanted to say and do it well.  I am not really sure of the reason, but I want to get back to blogging if only for the catharsis that it is for me.  Writing these things down, or typing these things out rather, is a form of confession and healing for me.  I read James 5:16 today, and it says (in my words) that confessing our sins to others is healing for us; therefore, I am just trying to apply medicine to my wounds through this blog.

What confession must I make today?  Well today I am broken.  I am broken hearted for my cousins who are more like brothers that are mourning the loss of their mother.  My heart aches for my mother who has lost yet another sibling and for my Papaw who has buried yet another child...

For my aunt still finding her way after tragedy struck years ago...
For the family that is grieving the young boy killed in the car accident...
For my kids at school whose parents choose not to participate their child's life..

The small group that I teach is currently in the middle of a study titled, Lord, Where Are You When Bad Things Happen?  Intellectually, I can affirm that God is good and that there is a purpose to our pain, and it is to this truth that I grasp, white-knuckled when things turn tragic.  But the pain is still there, and my heart still aches.  Tears still fall.  I have never really been able to wrap my head around death - its not fathomable to me that people that were laughing on the front porch one day can be gone the next.

So tonight I am seeking healing - confessing these things to you and spending some much needed alone time on my porch in my chair my Papaw built for me.

And I am reminiscing on the past week. While it has been one of those weeks that just hurts, it has also been one of those weeks where my heart has been filled.  My cousins chose our church for the visitation and funeral for my Aunt, and I must admit I was apprehensive.  Grief and family are two things I keep private from the rest of the world, and here we were about to open an extremely private matter up to people who don't normally see that side of me.  Please don't get me wrong, I love my church dearly.  I just don't trust too many people with the big things.  But please let me tell you that I am so glad we were home at CrossPointe this past week - the entire staff and family were so incredibly giving and kind to my family.  It was a truly beautiful mixture of my family and my church family.  They ministered so beautifully to my grief-stricken family, and I am beyond grateful.

To the people who ran sound, cooked meals, cleaned up after us, made many pots of coffee, and preached the service - we are so thankful for you.  Words will never suffice for how blessed we are by CrossPointe Community Church.

It is during times of crisis, that we put pen to paper to attempt to make sense of our world.  Tonight, I am not sure if any of this makes sense, but I hope, somehow, it helps.