Coping

This past week, I have been driving to work from Fort Collins by myself.  I was carpooling with my coworker Kimberly, but she is now on maternity leave.  I take Taft Hill which turns into Wilson in Loveland.  Earlier, I had noticed that there is a little road side memorial shrine in between Fort Collins and Loveland.  And going North, right before the memorial, are tire marks, and a big disturbance in the field, where you can tell a car crashed.  Every day this week, as I drive to work in the morning, there is a car pulled over next to it, and a lady sitting in front of the memorial.  Today, it was obvious that she was crying.  Her body was shaking and her face was in her hands.  I drove by it again this afternoon, and when I saw it, I wondered who this lady had lost.  Her son or daughter?  Brother or sister, best friend, cousin, aunt or uncle?  Whoever it was, she loved this person.  She loved them so much that she grieves for them every morning, and probably carries around that grief with her all day.

It has made me think about losing someone you love, and not even necessarily because that person died.  My friend said goodbye to someone she is very close to, who is moving to Europe indefinitely.  Another one of my friends went back home to England, and not under the happiest circumstances.  And Kimberly, my pregnant coworker, is not coming back to work after her baby is born.  Saying goodbye, or even saying see you later, is hard enough.  I can't imagine how hard it is to lose someone to death.

I love the incredible miracle of Jesus breaking the bands of death.  And I hold fast to the hope and faith I have in that.