I think I need to explain the blog title.

After Faye died I had a persistent mental image of a mountain, not Mount Everest as above, with the sun rising over the summit. The words that ran through my mind, also persistently, were "Inch by Inch; Day by Day, this Mountain will be mine."
This is what it means to me. When I lost my Queen so suddenly I truly felt like I had been left to die in the death zone of a mountain--nothing around me but rock and ice. At that horrible moment I didn't see how I could make it with no air to breathe and nothing to eat or hang on to.
But the gracious God whispered inch by inch, day by day, decision by decision this mountain will be yours.
The sun is a reminder that the Son of God is always there. It's also a reminder that even in the deepest, darkest moments of life there is beauty to be seen. Always, always, if I but look.
In time the mountain of pain, will be a mountain to the glory of God.

My grief is strong but "Inch by inch; day by day, this mountain will be mine."

Soli Deo Gloria.

This might be a tattoo.

A couple of thoughts on how I plan to go with this blog.
My plan is to do a blog most days, if not every day. I could go on a full-on blog burst but I'd rather space things out. And so I will. Some days I will do a longer post and a shorter, easier post.
I don't expect there will be any logical order to my posting. I'll worry about logical order later.

One of the things I've learned from others who have dealt with the loss of someone they love and with the wonderful organization Grief Share is to lean into my grief.
Leaning into grief seems a difficult concept to explain but for me it means accepting the reality of grief. I'm in a place of grieving. That's reality. At times I have to attend to other things. I have responsibilities. I have a business--a church I love, friends and family.
I have times when I choose to praise the God who loves me and loved Faye. No, that's not right, He loves Faye.
But when sadness comes I've learned to accept it and not be embarrassed, ashamed, frustrated, or impatient with my healing. It will come. I have that hope. Or better yet, I have that confidence.
In the meantime I will grieve. Death is an enemy.
Jesus wept at the grave of a friend, even though He knew what would happen next--Resurrection!
Jesus wept. That brings me comfort today.

This beautiful lady with her sweet smile is my wife Faye, who died suddenly about 4:35 a.m. Jan. 17, 2018. This blog will be written in her memory and provide the honest, sometimes painful, story of my grief and recovery.
I've chosen a public forum, but it is really for me. In time this material will form a book.