Grief is like a wave. It is often cultivated during high winds, but on rare occasion, it can invade the calm. You can lose yourself crashing into the wave or simply ride it out and just breathe. 

I have learned to ride grief out like a wave. I have the choice to allow it to pull me under or to let it carry me to its destination. I have learned to accept the change in pace and embrace the emotions that were hidden inside. Grief doesn’t always have to be the one lurking in secret—grief can also be a welcomed memory of something loved and lost.

Haven has been on my mind today. I have found myself overwhelmed with the chaos, begging to retreat into the quiet, and completely exhausted by the end of the day. When I wake up in the morning I am focusing on the end of the day—when I can escape into the darkness with my own thoughts and be alone.

What is wrong with me? Why is this happening now?

I have come to realize that these questions simply don’t matter. Grief is here and I don’t need a good reason to justify it being here . . . it is here. So . . . I am no longer going to be scared of grief. I am going to accept it and ride it out like a wave.

I am going to enjoy the solitude and find peace escaping into the darkness at night. There I will cry, I will mourn, I will think of what was lost—and then I will return those feelings to the Lord where they belong. I will leave the darkness when morning comes and I will find hope in knowing the ones that I lost are safely waiting for me in eternity.

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