The Sunday after a loved one dies can be the most painful. 

If you're a church-goer, it's the place that connects you spiritually to God and your loved one. The music, the people, and the message are beautiful but brutal. If you've managed to get to church, it might be hard. And that's okay. 

When my mom died, it took a while before I could attend a full church service. I would try, but inevitably my sobs would begin, and I'd have to leave. Of course, knowing that my mom was in heaven brought me peace, but my heart still hurt. Time helps.

My Aunt Ann, my mom's sister, died last Tuesday from advanced stages of Alzheimer's. She died peacefully surrounded by her family; thank you, Jesus. This Sunday after, I know that while heaven celebrates, we mourn. And that's okay. 

Grief is natural, it's healthy, and it's hard. If you have family, friends, or neighbors who want to be with you in your grief, let them in. They might not know what to say or do; just let them be with you. Grief is complicated, and it's hard to do alone. 

I wrote this poem just before my Aunt died. The promise of heaven takes away a bit of sting from grief. I can almost smile as I picture my Aunt in heaven.

Heaven's Beckon

On the brink of heaven

Where the angels beckon

Brilliant rays of God's glory

Stream fervently through paradise

He stands knowingly

With open arms extended

His grace and mercy flow freely

Over this newly transformed body

The earthly frame dissipates 

As the heavenly one emerges 

Relieved from all the tangles 

Of worldly pain and grief

Liberty in the Lord

Precious freedom to worship and praise

Joined in jubilee with the multitudes 

In a stunning chorus of 

HALLELUJAH 

Rejoice, rejoice

This is the day the Lord has made

Rejoice and be glad

For there are no more tears 

Of sadness and sorrow

The old has gone; the new has come

And this, yes this, is

A celebration to last a lifetime

                ~christianne 2022 ~