Where the Rubber Meets the Road: Thoughts from the Grave Site...

I wrote this a few weeks ago, but sharing it today on the blog as we walk through this third marker of losing my brother. I've realized the pain remains, it is just learning to live with it.

Today (April 10, 2015) I drove north up I-5 to the place I have always considered home. I have made the drive so many times in my life time there is no way to count. It is a familiar drive- sometimes dreaded even. As I drove up today I noticed so many crosses on the side of the road. I have always noticed some, but today it seemed like there was so many more than ever before. Some had artificial flowers, some had wreaths, one had bowling pins, some were just the cross itself, and some had a name hanging on the cross.

As they continued to stand out to me, I thought about all the lives that have endured loss. We will all have loss. Some may hurt worse than others, but none of us will escape that fact.

Right now I am typing this sitting next to my brother’s grave site. He is buried in this sweet little town I've always called home. His spot sits up on a hill and it is truly a beautiful view. For me, I was never one to come hang out at grave sites. However, I come here each time I hit the valley and spend a little time regrouping. I know he isn’t here. It is a peaceful spot though. It is a place I can come where chances are no one else will be. It is a place where I can sit and read, or rest or type, and just enjoy the beauty that is around.

Grief and fear are tough things. We will all have seasons of struggling through these things. There are some things we can do to help ourselves and a lot of things that we just have to allow time to take its course to get through.

We are approaching three years since my brother’s death. Life for many has went on as usual. Mine is not the same, nor will it be the same- EVER. I am on the journey to be better though. Better than I was even before all this. I do miss him so much. I long to KNOW he is with Jesus. I have a glimmer of hope that he is.

As I type, there is a wind chime behind me and as the wind is blowing it is making its own melody. It is soothing. Even the wind moving between the trees adds sound to the song. I do still hear a car every once in a while, but there is a stillness here. A calm. A moment of rest. A moment of silence even from the melodious song as the wind dies down. Then there's the buzzing of insects, the sound of a gun shot…life constantly moves forward. There are only small amounts of time where there is truly silence. In the silence though, my fingers tapping the keys seem so loud- dancing to its own tune.

I encourage you- take time to be still; to listen to the wind, the birds, and the insects. Take time to listen for the quiet whisper of God. Look for and have expectancy that He would show Himself to you. As I type this the sun grows brighter through the clouds. Coincidental? Maybe, but maybe not. I pause and close my eyes and feel it on my face. I soak it up. It gets brighter and brighter as my eyes are closed and I am just breathing and listening and letting the light shine upon me. It is warm. It feels good.

I have spent the last few years seeking God and feeling like He hasn't been here. I choose to look for ways that maybe He is and maybe He has been trying to show me all this time and I have missed it.

I also want to find a way to honor Chris in my life; a way to feel him with me every day. I hear a peacock in the distance. For some reason it makes me think of him when he was littler. I still can hear his voice calling my name “Sissy.”