When it comes to helping someone I love, I cannot control how another person seeks healing. So, I will be sharing the journey through the eyes of the one who loves and sees and keeps trying, the one who grows tired but still can look out over the soil of a relationship and dream about seeds.
When the cedar waxwings arrived, they became a beautiful reminder of a dear friend who taught me to notice, celebrate, and savor joy—even in sorrow. By slowing down, paying attention, and marking joy on our calendars, we open ourselves to God’s gentle gifts of delight, gratitude, and peace.
We often hide our pain behind smiles, yet God invites us to bring our sorrow honestly before Him. Lament is not the absence of faith—it is the language of trust. When we dare to voice our grief in worship, we discover healing, authenticity, and a deeper closeness to God.
