Death: The Art of Letting Go

A young woman died this weekend. Passed away, expired - what trivial words to the magnitude of the event. She was fighting her second round of breast cancer. She leaves behind twin 12 year old boys. A child left behind is sad; two is tragic. There is not an earthly word to describe the loss. A wonderful mother, talented educator, fine Christian, humble servant of God. If we were even able to factor out the suffering her death brings, what a waste of potential and years of love and devotion to family, friend, students, but most of all God. Is that why, when someone dies, we focus on the part they will miss instead of the part that they made. She lived. Her life gave birth to these two precious boys. They share her dark hair, expressive eyes. They share and have seen firsthand her faith. As a teacher, she taught inner city kids, giving many of them the mother figure they had never known. Would not have received, if she never lived. What an incredible gift God gave the world in her life. So why not acknowledge that. It is like the opening and closing credits of a wonderful movie. The anticipation in the beginning as the names roll out and sitting and "hmmming" afterwards, reviewing with those fellow lingerers, remembering the scenes. The scenes that made up her life. Knowing how much He loved her, how can I question her leaving. I can and I will because He lets me. He holds me close to His chest and I beat against it in frustration, and anger, and pain. Until I can't beat anymore. And then exhausted I cling to Him sobbing and I know the tears shed are not mine alone.