Checking the wound

I have been facilitating a GriefShare group in my church.

Going in I was concerned it would reawaken that subterranean monster of grief.

I am happy to say the monster has been relatively quiet.

But what has happened is that I've torn the scab off my wound.

I've ripped it off as I re-examine the loss of my Queen.

And, yes, I still have a wound. And, no, healing is not complete.

But here's the good news--I'm clearly healing. The infection is not as deep, nor is it as raw as it once was.

I've come to a place where I believe God can use me to encourage others on their own grief journey.

Even as I continue my walk on this unplanned journey I believe I'm able to extend a hand to others walking along it with me.

God is extending grace to me.

And I press on.