Two hours short of a week ago I received the call from my baby sister that my parents had been in a car crash and Dad was being air-lifted to Mercy Hospital. I was still in my pajamas at 1:00pm, so I got dressed and ready and headed out for the 1.5 hour trip.
Familiar faces of my sister and niece, swollen and red from sorrow, greeted me and I knew that he was gone.
I don’t know how long we went in and out of that room crying, then laughing as stories surfaced.
And that day I learned as well, that labor had begun ever-so-slowly for Ethan and Caitlin’s first baby. We had been expecting the arrival of our third grandson who was due a few days prior.
The week past is a blur. Death suddenly ushers a family onto a fast moving train of decisions, duties, and details to tend. In the midst of sorrow a heavy load of life piles up even as ‘life-as-usual’ is put on hold.
Bills went unpaid. Boxes sat unpacked in the midst of our move. Work piles up for those holding jobs.
But we find grace. The enabling power of God sustains, provides the means to manage it all and sorrow.
Friday we buried Dad. On a serene, sunny day, we had a beautiful service with wonderful people, and a celebration of who Dad was . . . (here a fraction of the 35 grandchildren)
And Saturday Oliver was born, and a last minute change to the middle name, that of my father, James.
Encapsulated in a week, the bittersweet of life: a loss, a birth. And life continues on and multiplies with God on His throne ruling.
And all is well with my soul trusting this God, giver of all good gifts who makes all things new.