Skip to content

Discovering Grace in Grief

Menu + × expanded collapsed

About Me
Books
Writing
Speaking
Contact

cropped-untitled-3-2.png

https://atomic-temporary-171432464.wpcomstaging.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/cropped-untitled-3-2.png

https://atomic-temporary-171432464.wpcomstaging.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/cropped-untitled-3-2.png

Full size1200 × 628

Post navigation

Published in
cropped-untitled-3-2.png

Leave a ReplyCancel reply

Search

Search for:

Visit Me On Instagram

For a long time after Rob died, church was a place to which it felt impossible to return. My faith was still bedrock to my life; in fact, it had become more precious than ever before. But weekly gatherings were incredibly painful. Our family visited many area churches, and we found the same thing at every one. Few places were equipped to truly welcome the walking wounded. Most places were more hype club than hospital.

Two years ago, I bought a house on my own. It was a big scary financial decision, to be sure; but even scarier was the commitment it represented to setting down roots. Grounding myself had always felt risky. I’m a bird who likes to fly. But loss had circumscribed my life in ways I hadn’t expected, and buying a house and staying put felt like the right decision at the time.

After Rob died, I gave away almost all of my big dishes. Why did I need that ginormous casserole dish or that punch bowl? I couldn’t imagine hosting parties ever again. Why did I need a stock pot? My days of soup dinners with a houseful of friends were now just memories.

In a small village in Malawi, families come to this well to draw clean water. When they do, they meet my sweet husband Rob in the words above the spigot. Rob loved the red dirt mountain beauty of Malawi. He’d be so happy to see this little girl’s smile.

Categories

Categories

CLARISSA MOLL, WordPress.com.