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Writer's pictureRachel Elliott

Unprepared

That’s what each of us are when we walk through deep pain & grief. We are unprepared for the moments when we are completely undone in the checkout line at The Restaurant Store. How does one explain hardship and Cancer to the man at the register? I am unprepared in the vehicle on the way to an ultrasound, pregnant and puffy as is; sobbing on the highway. Unprepared and undone is who I am, as the cardinals fly in front of my car each day. Cardinals I never knew existed prior to deep pain, & grief.


Unprepared is the sinking feeling of looking into the sunshine, the same sun I see, that shines on my girls wherever they are in this moment. Do they see us in the sunshine, too? It is the familiar cursive handwriting on mail from my mom. She has always written in cursive. As I open the envelope, I feel hot and whisper to myself, “I need a good cry”. My mind starts to be flustered; there will never be another card signed “Dad” on my table. Only the ones I have stashed away in my attic, I can look back on. I must somehow be okay with that. Somehow, I must also be okay to know that a day will come when Moms won’t, either.


Education does not prepare us for loss. Neither marriage nor babies, nor finances. Just time gone by, that’s how we learn. In each season of life, I am continually reminded of Habakkuk 3. The olive crop will fail. Where will my eyes be?


I am thankful for worship to cry out to God for comfort in the midst of being unprepared.


You're still just as good as when I met You

You're still just as kind, don't let me forget that

You're still the same God that led me through the fire

You're still the same God who separates the waters . . .”





This is the farm where our chicken house is. Our "work away from work", where we breathe deeply and enjoy simplicity.

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