-
Letters to Emma #6
This is the sixth and final post in a series about grief and my experience of it after the death of my husband Paul 4½ years ago. Each post is written as a letter—a letter to Emma. I’ve done it this way for two reasons: visualising an audience of one has helped me to write about what is still a difficult subject, and Emma was the one who first asked me to consider writing something on this topic. It’s my hope and prayer that by blogging about my personal experience of death and grief, I might have eased the journey for someone else. Hello Emma I wasn’t sure how many of these…
-
Letters to Emma #5
This is the fifth in a series of posts I plan to write about grief and my experience of it after the death of my husband Paul 4½ years ago. I will write each post in the form of a letter—a letter to Emma. I’m doing it this way for two reasons: visualising an audience of one will help me to write about what is still a difficult subject, and Emma was the one who first asked me to consider writing something on this topic. It’s my hope and prayer that by blogging about my personal experience of death and grief, I might ease the journey for someone else. Dear Emma…
-
Letters to Emma #4
This is the fourth in a series of posts I plan to write about grief and my experience of it after the death of my husband Paul 4½ years ago. I will write each post in the form of a letter—a letter to Emma. I’m doing it this way for two reasons: visualising an audience of one will help me to write about what is still a difficult subject, and Emma was the one who first asked me to consider writing something on this topic. It’s my hope and prayer that by blogging about my personal experience of death and grief, I might ease the journey for someone else. Hello Emma…
-
When in doubt, follow the instructions
Every now and then, and apparently out of nowhere, a question will flit into my mind. It might not demand much attention at first, but when something unexpected reminds me that it’s there, I tend to take more notice. Exactly this kind of question arrived in my mind on the second of January last year. I know this because I wrote it down. Is God fair? Is God fair? I wasn’t asking this question because I had an opinion on the matter. I hadn’t really thought about it before and so I wondered what the answer might be. The same question came up over cheese and crackers when I had…
-
Letters to Emma #3
This is the third in a series of posts I plan to write about grief and my experience of it after the death of my husband Paul 4½ years ago. I will write each post in the form of a letter—a letter to Emma. I’m doing it this way for two reasons: visualising an audience of one will help me to write about what is still a difficult subject, and Emma was the one who first asked me to consider writing something on this topic. It’s my hope and prayer that by blogging about my personal experience of death and grief, I might ease the journey for someone else. Hello again, Emma I…
-
Letters to Emma #2
This is the second in a series of posts I plan to write about grief and my experience of it after the death of my husband Paul 4½ years ago. I will write each post in the form of a letter—a letter to Emma. I’m doing it this way for two reasons: visualising an audience of one will help me to write about what is still a difficult subject, and Emma was the one who first asked me to consider writing something on this topic. It’s my hope and prayer that by blogging about my personal experience of death and grief, I might ease the journey for someone else. Dear Emma It was…
-
Letters to Emma #1
This is the first in a series of posts I plan to write about grief and my experience of it after the death of my husband Paul 4½ years ago. I will write each post in the form of a letter—a letter to Emma. I’m doing it this way for two reasons: visualising an audience of one will help me to write about what is still a difficult subject, and Emma was the one who first asked me to consider writing something on this topic. It’s my hope and prayer that by blogging about my personal experience of death and grief, I might ease the journey for someone else. Dear Emma Do…
-
Nostalgia for Saturdays
We couldn’t wait to try it out. Dad had been working on it for several weekends, using precious Saturday afternoons, and off-cuts of timber and particleboard from his shed to construct a one-of-a-kind go-kart. It wasn’t the first thing he’d made for us and it wouldn’t be the last. But the tantalising prospect of speeding along the neighbourhood footpaths in this machine kept my sister, my brother and me enthralled as we watched it come together. We were so keen for a test drive. Saturday chores Back then in our family Saturday mornings were reserved for chores. Dad mowed the lawns, tended the veggie patch, tuned the engine on the…
-
Simple, unexpected and beautiful
Last Sunday as I sat in church, something happened that made me smile. Something simple, unexpected and beautiful. We were celebrating the Lord’s Supper together. We don’t do it frequently, but somehow that makes the remembering more particular and significant. The way we go about it is not very formal, and yet somehow that pared-back plainness makes it easier to focus on what’s essential. As we read the biblical narrative once more of Christ’s death for us—his willing sacrifice to save us from the guilt and penalty of sin—the significance of the remembrance is not lost to familiarity. We use tiny cubes of bread (rice crackers for the gluten-free folk)…
-
To do or not to do?
Do you have a to-do list? Do you even like to-do lists? I write to-do lists because it helps get the buzz out of my head—a swirling confusion of many things yet to do. To-do lists help ease a lurking dread that if I don’t write things down I will forget something important or urgent or boringly mundane. Taskmaster Although preventing my head from exploding is an honourable goal, I often immediately regret writing a to-do list. Too soon it becomes a severe taskmaster that rules my priorities and conscience. And it seems only to expand rather than reduce. As soon as I begin ticking things off the list, any sense…
