In looking over the past three weeks of musings, poems, and reflections, I have learned several things:
I continue to be--in the words of my friend Mike Tant--a blessed but ever grieving father. But I also know the grief moves towards joy and reunion. One day I will embrace Jordan again and we'll never have to say goodbye.
I remember that I am surrounded by good friends--both here in St. Louis and elsewhere--who are a great source of encouragement.
I find peace in the grounding in faith I received from my parents. It could seem like basic wiring some of the time when I was younger, but the roots have gone deep enough that they held on when times were bleakest.
I am overjoyed that God has blessed me with a loving wife and delightful children who are a great fountain of my present happiness.
And I am comforted that God not only understands pain. He experienced more of it than all of us put together. Without the Cross, none of this has a prayer of making sense.
Like I said in chapel this past Wednesday, God knows what it's like to lose a son.
Comfort is real. Peace is lasting.
In this, there is no doubt.
I am comforted. I am at peace.