Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,

the Father of mercies,

and the God of all comfort;
Who comforteth us in all our tribulation,

that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble,

by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.

1 Corinthians 1:3,4

It has always been such an odd feeling to me, when going through any life-altering moment, to look around at people I see–driving down the road, in the store, walking around the neighborhood–and to think that they are just going about their lives, and have absolutely no idea the significance of this particular moment in time.

I felt it first when my beloved grandma was sick and in the hospital for months and I’d pass people in the halls, wondering why they were at this hospital and if someone they loved as dearly was not likely to ever make it home. The day she died, I saw two nurses laughing together and thought them cruel. Didn’t they understand that our hearts were breaking? I felt it again the late night we drove to my aunt and uncle’s home after a pulmonary embolism took his life so very unexpectedly. I watched, from my back seat, as other drivers stared into the darkness and thought how very strange that those people didn’t know the world seemed to have fallen apart that night.

I remember on my wedding day, driving from the church to the reception hall. As I sat nestled in my new husband’s arm, I glanced out the window and thought it sad that everyone we were passing couldn’t be as supremely happy as I was at that moment. Life felt absolutely perfect that Saturday afternoon, and yet people were just pulling into the grocery store parking lot to do their weekly shopping. On the evening we brought our firstborn baby boy home from the hospital and I was being wheeled down the hallways, peeking repeatedly at the sweet little thing being carried by my husband, I thought of the hospital staffer who was pushing my wheelchair. I realized that to him, we were just another new family, and he was just doing his job.The world was sparkling for us that night, and yet this young man would, in a few minutes, be going back up to the maternity ward and would soon forget the new little baby wrapped in a light green blanket.

Last night, as my mom drove through up a long windy grade somewhere in the middle of California and I gazed out the window, that old feeling crept over me once again. Cars passed us quickly, many with just a lone businessman filling them, often with a simple blank stare on his face. I wondered at the thoughts of these people. Were they commuting back to work after a weekend off? Were they on a business trip, or preparing for a spring vacation with family? Did any of these strangers we passed have heavy hearts, such as mine? Did they recently have to say goodbye to a dear family member… knowing that they would never again see him on this earth? Life held such a strange color yesterday, as we spent so many hours driving home.

This morning, I woke up to laundry needing to be done, very meager pickings when it comes to edible food in the house, phone calls for miscellaneous help, our water being turned off for all the morning hours without notice, a rude customer service rep, another message from the doctor’s office (though I had already told them twice that I was out of town and would complete the blood work upon my return home :smile:), errands to run, a truck to unload, and myriad other little things begging for attention. What I would like to do is to have a quiet morning to ponder and let the reality of the last five days sink in a bit more before I face the world.

But that isn’t real life for most people, and it certainly isn’t the reality of my life today. The rest of the world, including all of my family who are feeling the same and more of what I am, are continuing on. The world is still rotating, and God is still on the Throne.

The Lord promises comfort when our hearts are hurting. He promises grace to see each day through. He promises peace and a deeper relationship with Him showing forth through hard times. He doesn’t promise easy days without distractions to sit, think, and do little good for myself or anyone else. So today I’m going to persevere. Work hard–as my grandparents taught their children and their youngest son has taught me. Pray for my dad and my aunt, and the rest of the family still up there. Give glory to my Heavenly Father, because He has truly been so very good. His blessings have been innumerable over the last few days, even though they are difficult days. I can not be self-centered, but instead focus on the big picture here. Because Jesus is comfort… and He is all I need.