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Gratefulness, Grief, Breakfast.

It’s been such an interesting year. For me. The past little while I’ve been almost overloaded and overwhelmed by the myriad of emotions life brings. Seeing off my Grandpa into eternity was so beautiful, challenging and at the end of the day I can only sit in gratefulness as I realize how much I and my family were given by this extraordinary man. ( I include my grandma in the same breath as they were TEAM, and while she is still with us, it won’t be long before she is home with Jesus too.)

This Easter was hard for me to enter in per my normal. Normally it has been quite frantic for me. I’m usually occupied helping design the experience and set the table for many. This year, I was sitting in the congregation coloring a page with my adorable son who with not a quiet whisper was asking questions throughout. Then as it dawned on him what was happening I saw him engage like I’ve never seen before. It started some time during the Good Friday service and continued as I heard his little voice singing loudly during Easter Sunday.

I’m used to providing value wherever I’m at. I’m a 2 on the enneagram and I guess that matches up with my personality. This weekend though, not so much. In fact my life at the moment is not seemingly producing much except a ton of reflection and wondering.

Then it hit me. Monday morning I was overwhelmed during a quiet time with Jesus. As I sang and worshiped it all hit me at once. Gratefulness, grief. Gratefulness in the before, now and not yet. Grief over my failings and imperfectness. There was gratefulness in the grief. Grief woven throughout the gratefulness. A war in my heart to hold onto hope as at times I sink into depression of how big the mountains seem and then in the next moment pure Joy, euphoria and elation on how good Jesus was and is and will be.

I know I sound crazy, and yes, I may be a little crazy. Aren’t we all??

So much of my life seems to be about waiting for Him to come. And so much of my life seems to be about stepping out when I’m not always sure if He is there. But the truth is HE is. HE is always there.


I’m all for the grief and gratefulness of the Friday and the celebration and euphoria of the Sunday. But the Monday. When Jesus made his disciples breakfast on the beach. (Now I know it was technically the Monday probably, but you get my drift) The fact He was still there. The fact it was so normal but so different. This sealed the deal for me this week. And brought hope into my life with such a gust. This filled my need. This took care of my want. This reality helps me take my moment today. 

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The Haythorpes

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