All things that live, die.
They must. Ninety years or so is about
as long as any human can take this. Bears and
birds and bluebonnets have their own
alarm clocks, but the principle is the same.
When something or someone beautiful dies,
mourning emerges. Grief, mourning, call it
what you will: it is a requirement of a healthy
human life. Mourning serves a purpose,
but it, too, has to stop sometime.
The reality is so important: Mourn fully and
completely. Mourn painfully and joyfully.
Then, move on.
Life calls in many voices.
Someone told me the other day that they could no
longer accept the God-image they had
carried for years. It no longer made sense,
sustained, empowered, touched deeply.
But, he said: I mourn the loss.
God hasn\'t died for me, but the ways I
experience and encounter God have changed.
The image in my mind just doesn\'t work anymore.
I will tell him, when he\'s ready to hear it,
that his mourning is the doorway to an even
deeper, more extraordinary friendship with
a God-image yet to come into sharp focus.
There is no fixing something
or someone when
death comes.
There is remembering,
but not retaining.
All things that live, die.
And the best we can do is to
mourn and move on.