Looking into my little daughter’s giant heart while gazing through her grief drenched eyes is simultaneously honoring and heartbreaking.
Honoring because I receive the security she feels in my arms as a gift from our Holy Spirit.
Heartbreaking because I want to snatch the pain from her.
But I can’t.
I can only teach my sweet girl how to navigate grief and trust God to help.
Part of this modeling comes in trusting God for help in unexpected moments of being real.
Just like my sweet girl was real last night, asking for help with her sadness when she broke down in response to a climate change with her grandfather fighting lung cancer, God too wants her to know He’s always there to help. God’s help is never ending (*she lost her other grandfather to the same a few months ago–yes, you read that correctly–lung cancer struck both grandfathers. I hate cancer.).
God is our refuge and strength,
always ready to help in times of trouble.
Consequently, this morning while walking my daughter into her school office to provide an update, I literally also walked into an opportunity to model embracing God’s help prompted by being real in a safe, unexpected moment. Once I opened the door and saw dear office personnel I-love-oh-so-much, I had a surprise cry fest right then and there as everyone was starting their day.
It was like the world stopped on it’s axis for a moment. The hustle and bustle of parents and staff prepping for school spun around me as the words of office personnel spoke comfort straight to my heart. It’s as if they were on angelic assignment. For this stop in time–my real–this time in the form of tears in a school office, gave the Holy Spirit a moment to help.
In other words, as my “I’m so DONE with cancer!” tears of grief streamed down my face in our school office this morning, I was also reminded God is continuing to teach me to His grace is so much bigger than me. He pours it on regardless of my expectancy, or not.
Grateful God wants me to expect unexpected Grace.