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Death, and Life. You cannot walk through life without journeying through each.

One of my church grandpas died. I didn’t cry at first. It didn’t register. He was the sort of person who always makes you feel happy and loved, someone who has this huge heart for everyone and is such a blessing to be around. I wish churches were filled with people like him. He’s the sort that makes Christianity real. He’s with Jesus now, and with his wife, so I’m happy for him, but I’ll miss doing VBS with him and Dad in the Bible room, and I’ll miss always being greeted by him on Sundays. So, I cry, even though I know that Jesus has taken away the sting of death. Death is still death.

But then there’s also Life. There are lilies, and midnight walks, and lamplight, and streetlights, and the sound of the rushing stream through the darkness, and someone to walk with.

I can only grieve for so long. I can’t live in grief. And what is there to regret? I love, and am loved. I love those around me, and treat those around me like Jesus, even though I am not perfect at this. I cannot grieve as I did when my grandpa–Papa–died. I cannot live in the mindset of death. Why not remember life? And wait. Wait for heaven.

Heaven, no more death.

But until then, there’s so much life here on earth. And I will choose to see it, and choose to live in it.

I will not become the girl I was before, feeling like a knife was being stabbed into me over and over. I will not live like that anymore. My mind drifted that way, and I told myself “No.” No, I will not live like this. I love, and am loved. Jesus, be with me.

Midnight walks across campus, so glad to not be alone this time. No longer fighting the depression I did before. No longer fighting to keep myself moving doggedly forward. I am blessed, very blessed.

Jesus, be with me. Amen.

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