These thoughts are probably a mixture of tuning my heart into the Lenten season, a friend's dad recently diagnosed with cancer and my too quick tendency to give answers, and the approaching anniversary of my brother's death.
I once listened to a native american storyteller talk about his life and wisdom. He said, "We all earn our wisdom. It don't come cheap, that's for sure."
I have a soul friend who often cavalierly says death is going to happen to everyone eventually ... it's a normal part of life. He implies it's something to simply accept. Each time he says it, I feel myself cringe as if he is scraping his fingernails down a chalkboard. After several times of his off-handed comments, I genuinely and quietly asked, "Have you ever encountered death personally...at your core, with someone you love?"
When I hear a cognitive, tidy, in-the-box discussion about death and faith, I usually start by feeling mystified, then frustrated, until the very end where I realize, "Oh. This person has never felt death's grip around their throat or the throat of someone they love. They are talking about death intellectually." Either because they have not yet experienced it or they have not let themselves feel it. The piece of wisdom I have gained most from my experiences of grief is that death is the total opposite of our God. The comfort of this for the brokenhearted is beyond describing.
