Loss, life, fear, and comfort.

Yesterday was a study in contrasts.

Sadness: I woke to a text from my mom informing me that she was going to have to put down her dog Lacey. Anyone who knows Momma will know that this was a very painful and heartbreaking for her to do. That little dog loved her, was her constant shadow from the time we got her (before I started high school), and was anxious when Mom wasn't around; she was Momma's baby. So, I went and held my Momma and we cried together while my step-dad buried her four-legged child. We get so attached to our pets, especially ones who live indoors with you, so that it feels like losing a family member when they die. To follow this up, a "deep theological question" was innocently posed in Sunday School this morning: Will there be dogs in Heaven? Irony. The jury's still out on that one.

Happiness: Then last night, I went and celebrated the 92nd birthday of Daniel's grandma. We ate chicken stew and laughed together about things past and present. I can't imagine what it must be like to have lived 92 years. The multitude of experiences, gains, losses, times of joy and hurt are heartening to contemplate. It evokes ruminations of what path my life will take, what trials, triumphs, and failures will come my way, and how those things will shape me. Who will I be when I am old, given that I actually live to become old? The myriad possibilities exite me, dissipating my earlier melancholy.

Fear: We got news that my 18 month old nephew had fallen and was at the hospital with a fractured skull. Pray.

Relief: Good news that he was up playing around and there was no bleeding on his brain. Thank God for his protection. Pray for healing.

By the time I crawled into bed, the emotional rollercoaster I had ridden all day had left me fatigued and scattered. I needed to be held. Daniel was already asleep, still recovering from the flu, so I opened my Bible to Psalm 139 and let God hold me close. This is probably my favorite chapter in the whole Bible. It never fails to comfort me, reassure me, and make me feel close to God. Peace closed over me, I turned out the light, and slept dreamlessly.