Tasting the Bitter and the Sweet

If it weren't for Facebook I would never have known to celebrate National Dog Day this week. And since I'm dog sitting my favorite sister dog, the vital information made me appreciate waking to puppy kisses before coffee. 

Most days.

My brother dropped the puppy off at my home Tuesday night since my parents flew to Philadelphia to plan my grandmother's funeral. She passed away Sunday evening at the age of 94, having lived life well.

Thankfully, only hours after my PET scan Monday, I was able to let my family know that I do not have cancer. While I'm still scheduled to see a hematologist / oncologist specialist next week to discuss other potential diagnosis', setting aside cancer fears while grieving Grandma felt like a gift. 

A bittersweet gift.

As I've shared the news, I've been quick to point out Grandma lived a full life, as if to soften the blow. In comparison, the father of my children died at the age of thirty. So when someone reaches ninety-four years, they've bypassed so many that I tend to lean into pragmatism. 

It was her time.

She's no longer suffering.

She's in a better place now.

While I was lying in a PET scan machine on Monday, however, my mom had to explain to my grandfather, who's mind is gripped mind Alzheimer's, that his wife of 67 years was gone. Not sure if he understood, Mom and her sisters wheeled him to a car and drove him to the funeral home. There they watched as he approached her laid out form, leaned over and kissed her cheek, and then stood, holding her hand. 

The same man spent more time looking at a book about cars than interacting with the generations of family that gathered for a reunion last July. Almost non-verbal, he observed with a placid countenance.

But somewhere deep in the fog of dementia he still knew his wife. 

And that's a beautiful, bittersweet thing.

Not a day that goes by where the world is untouched by the bitter. Violence abounds. Random shootings invade normal life on a regular basis now, leaving no one immune to heart ache.

The bitter is real, intensifying, and hard to comprehend.

But the sweet exists. You won't find it on Fox News or CNN very often. But it flows, a continual stream from heaven, offering peace that passes understanding and love without fear.

Graham Cooke states,  

"Life is too big for any of us. Every day something's happening because life is just too big. But when you live in Christ, you come at life from a completely different realm. When life gets too big, you know that God is bigger so you feel safe." 

(Growing Up in God, CD #1)

Do you know that God is bigger? Does your relationship with Christ make you feel safe? 

If not, dig deeper. Read The Word like it matters. Take time to learn stillness; to dwell in His presence. 

We are forced to taste the bitter. Embracing the sweet, however, is an continual act of the will. A daily choice to believe. 





photo credit: Future Coffee via photopin (license)