Heartwarming and Gut-wrenching

How can heartwarming and gut-wrenching co-exist?

I just watched a Facebook post of a friend’s little boy receiving a puppy...compliments of Make a Wish Foundation. Getting a puppy – heartwarming. From Make a Wish Foundation – gut-wrenching.

Miracles happen. And I am praying for a miracle for my friend’s son.

The point is...this is what life looks like.

This past weekend, I went to Texas with Charli to visit family and attend the dedication of a prayer garden built in honor of my nephew Mason Budro who died two months ago in a car accident. Sunday was a gorgeous day, the sky a peaceful blue with wispy white clouds decorating the horizon. The grass surrounding the prayer garden was brilliant green with an alabaster chapel in the background – like a painting of some bygone era.

It was almost enough to make you forget why you were there. But not quite enough. The darkness of grief and pain and loss were as present as the gleaming sunshine illuminating the sacred gathering.

This is what life looks like.

There are shadows and there is light. There is joy and there is sorrow. There is laughter and there are tears. There are mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers struggling to piece together a life without their loved ones. And there are compassionate human beings who step into the messiness of grief with us to be present and to listen and to create space for us to remember....and to build prayer gardens.

As I watched the parade of cars passing by my friend’s house in the Facebook post, each with a sign or some demonstration of love and support for this little guy fighting an aggressive form of cancer, I whispered through my tears, “God you are with us, and you are good.” The parade culminated with the presentation of a puppy to my friend’s son and his big sister. And in that moment, smiling and sobbing, I was grateful for all the love being poured out onto this family, and...I HATED cancer.

This is what life looks like.

If we wait to embrace and enjoy the moments that are purely positive and good and desirable, much of life will pass us by. We will be mostly enduring the present while anxiously awaiting something better tomorrow. If we are willing to acknowledge that life is messy and painful and beautiful and delightful, all at the same time, we will fully inhabit this present moment with honesty and gratitude and joy. The pain will not disappear, but the joy will give us strength to endure.