Today I attended the memorial service for my former neighbor. She was 38. She had four young children. She was living in a hotel when she died. All of her kids, but her youngest, were living with other people. She was my neighbor. I knew her children well. I took them to camp and fed them at my picnic table. We had good talks and hard talks. And she was honest about her struggle with depression and how it impacted her life. She loved her kids, her neighbors, her family.
Today was a hard day, as her youngest son tried to speak, but could only say, "I love you and miss you so much," before needing the arms of his brother to hold him. Together they held each other on the platform and cried.
My heart hurts for their hurting hearts. I pray for hope and peace upon them in the coming days and weeks as they learn to walk this world without their mother.
Between driving up tot he St. Paul and back, visiting with old neighbors and friends, returning home to volunteer in my son's classroom, and celebrating the birthday of my newly minted nine year old, I didn't get to read my Bible the way I had hoped today. But still, I found a few down minutes and opened God's word.
It was so good. It was so good because God is faithful always. God's word is true, always. And even when life doesn't make sense, we can cling to the promise of God's peace. Today I have to believe in the power of God's peace for fear that if I don't, the suffering of this world would swallow us whole.
"The peace of God, which transcends understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4.7.