Musings on Another Loss

Angie Warren // Grief + Addiction

Here's something I can tell you: grief manifests differently, wildly, unpredictably. This I thought I knew after losing my mom, this I now know for certain after the Davis family has gone from six to four.

I have spent the better part of six months expressing a great joy in life after loss - gratitude even. I've started my manuscript over again, saying farewell to 70k words because three weeks before my brother died I felt something in my gut tell me that wasn't the story.

Then SLAM.

Out of nowhere I'm faced with a challenge I never expected, I'm suddenly asking myself how does one say "there IS light after dark, there IS a great and wonderful JOY to be found after life becomes shattered" when suddenly my spring feels a bit more like a winter, again.

It's something I'm wrestling with (among many other difficult things) at present. I can say God is still a good God. I can say He's not left my side. I can say He knew from February 12, 1988 that my brother would live a short twenty-nine years. And I can say with all certainty that I now hold my family closer and tighter than I ever imagined possible.

If you've walked along side me for any amount of time, I pray you take one thing away: I pray you too know that in the midst of whatever winter you're in, you're not in it alone. It's not cliche, I'm not just spouting it. I'm living it. God is good, even in what feels like upheaval, and for that, I'm eternally grateful.