Funeral lessons were drawn from both Testaments.
From the Old Testament, Psalm 121:1-2
“I will lift up my eyes to the hills
From whence comes my help?
My help comes from the Lord…”
A Song of Ascent, which continues to be quite the personal message, considering Jeff’s emphatic announcement that my baptism one year before his death was more important to him than our wedding day.
When he said, “Now, I know you’ll be alright,” he meant my place in our Father’s house would be secured.
Not premonitious; just a declaration of peacefulness. Jeff reveled in the calm that my soul was safely held and would be accounted for in heaven. The greatest of gifts.
It’s taken me a few years to appreciate this is the eternal promise that kept me going strong through the first few years.
It’s taken me a few more years to admit I have loosened my grip, lost my hold: effectively muted the joy. Despite that, here I am. With barely any effort on my part, still going forward.
The thing is, I’m ready to revise, now. Just about everything. I want to begin again. Embrace what needs renewal.
2008, down 118 pounds. 2020, I’ve gained 12 back, slowly.
It’s easy to break it into bites that please my palate. That’s only a pound a year!
Except I am now further out away from what should have continued. You see, I wasn’t done. 30 more to go is now 42.
It’s also easy to declare this is what I want. The hard part is action; required.
Then, there’s trying to do too much. Or too much to do, so, not trying.
I know what I must do. I always know what I must do.
There’s really only one way through. But, to take that path….
First things first: reclaim the calm.
Quote for the Week: 
knabble 