Joining with this amazing community of writers is a privilege every Friday. Want to play along? Head over to Lisa Jo’s and read all the “rules”–but the only one that really matters? Write your heart and give some love to the link before you.
Today’s words is…
They came bearing soup and casseroles and cookies and salads. They sent cards the old way with stamps and return addresses slipped in between my weekly paper and coupons and bills. They stopped me in the hall, in the store, beside the peeling paint minivan to simply express condolences that are more than sympathy—they gave me empathy.
It’s a small thing to call the florist and have flowers delivered. It’s a small thing to rearrange a Sunday afternoon and drive an hour north to hug a friend for only a few minutes. It’s a small thing to show the greatest, deepest kind of love.
It takes patience and conscious effort and intentionality. It takes work. It takes a tiny little sacrifice of waiting a few more moments before watching or reading or folding or washing to write a note to place a call or send a message.
But the way it made me feel? Loved. Encouraged. Reminded that I matter to many and my grief is not mine alone. That in the family of God, we can embrace grief together and remember that this is not the end.
It is the beginning of joy and it is those on the outside who can find the cracks in my hurting heart and fill them with glory.