This new journey of grief looks nothing like I had imagined. I always thought I would be visiting my momma’s grave every day and sitting serenely as I talked to her and cried, telling her how much I missed her. Instead, the past three months have been some of the busiest and most stress-filled days of my life. The weird thing about grief is that life goes on.
You know those moments in life that turn into stakes crushed into the ground of the path you’ve been walking; the moments that completely change you, change your life’s plan, or even the way you see people? We are all inevitably delivered moments that smother our ideals and desires. This thing called sin, it truly wreaks havoc on our world and our hearts. May is Lyme Disease Awareness month, which leads me to share about one of those staked moments I mentioned above.
I remember going to a local festival when I was in first grade. There was a clown selling balloons and, to my surprise, my parents bought one and promptly tied it to my wrist. I loved that balloon. I don’t know why, but it instantly felt special to me. As I walked around with my balloon proudly stretching out from my tiny wrist—I felt it. The knot that secured my prize to my person slowly unraveled and slipped away. I watched the balloon float up as my heart sank.
