This is the January 25th entry from the Daily Guideposts edition for 2019…

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”  Matthew 5:4

Outside my office window, the leftover snow and bleak scene mirrored the state of my life.  In three weeks my family suffered three unexpected deaths – one each week.  The last one was unbelievably devastating, my nephew, my sister Maria’s son.  My tired heart broke, and I didn’t know how to – or really want to – put it back together.  Despite it all, I kept going, getting up, getting dressed, and going to work.

I turned inward and tried to make sense of it all.  I put on a happy face and tried to feel something other than that deep, fresh grief.  I held my breath a lot and tried to care about impending deadlines and responsibilities.  I tried to listen on conference calls.  I tried to be compassionate when coworkers or friends complained about mundane things like nothing to watch on TV or difficulty finding a dog food that was inexpensive yet healthy.

Grief is like a chrysalis, a heavy coat that fastens itself to us, one we wear and get used to, one that forever changes us – and eventually brings us to a place of ascension – but I wasn’t there yet.  I was in the darkness of the cocoon.  I found myself reflecting the dismal winter landscape and feeling hopeless.

At the grocery store, the tiny greenhouse section called out to me.  I purchased an African violet that fit in the palm of my hand.  In the midst of soft green leaves, three white flowers bloomed.

I placed the plant in my office beside my computer.  Looking at it, I smiled and suddenly realized there was a perfect little blossom for each of my loved ones.  Their happy yellow centers shone like miniature sunshine.  Each seemed to say, Breath.  See beauty.  Go on.

Heavenly Father, thank you for guiding me through the depths

of my grief to appreciate the blooming beauty of life.

-Sabra Ciancanelli 

Digging deeper: Psalm 61:2; Hebrews 11:1

Hi George. I'm very sorry all this has happened in such a short time.  Hard hit indeed.  I really don't know what to say..I've never experienced something like that.  I hope I never do.

A friend of mine usually says, "It comes in  3's."  That seems to have happened to you and your family.

I do believe that we never really lose those who have left before us.  I believe there's a cycle.  We come and go.  We meet again, and leave again, and meet again, and have to leave again.  

As you say, the happy little centers of the flowers are your three loved ones.  They are happy.  It's us that miss them.  But don't forget, they are happy.  And they don't think they are dead.