Grief is an interesting thing, it comes in stages and moments sometimes rather than seasons and calculated times. It comes out of left field and you notice yourself living through the process of loss all over again. It comes in with a rush of no warning of any kind and hits like a hurricane, with no grounding or foundation to place your feet. Like a tyrant it wraps you up into the chaos, something you never asked for and propels you forward into the dust. It’s a malicious game, a host for disappointment and utter depravity. It tightens its grip and your left wondering if you’ll ever stand up. But you see, that’s grief without hope. When I find security and comfort in the grieving process because I’ve been there before, I put my hope in the process to let time heal. But when I put my hope in the One who knows grief and is the light in the darkness, I worry less about when I’ll get out of it and more on how to get through it with Him. He is the foundation in the chaos, He is the cornerstone in a crumbling house, the calm in the midst of a raging storm. When all else fails, He reminds you that you can be both emotional and powerful, in process and victorious, fragile and full of strength. On the cross, He found security and joy in the middle of tremendous grief and suffering. If He had that, then we get to have that too