Since the early days after the accident, I have sensed a certain sacredness in grief. With the most vulnerable part of my heart exposed, I could only cry out to the Lord in my brokenness. It was laughable to consider anything else being even remotely comforting. As the days and weeks have turned into months, the temptation for distraction is enticing.

I am learning that it is of utmost importance to allow myself to sit in the waves of grief as they come; avoiding and postponing the ache is futile. In my lament, my heart is drawn to the great Comforter enabling me to cling to the Gospel, my hope. There is a sacred exchange in the acknowledgment of my brokenness and from the ashes arises a beauty only God can ordain.

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.  Psalm 51:17

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