It’s like they are invited dinner guests, showing up as if you’ve been expecting them all along, maybe even sending the invitation yourself. Hard days don’t announce themselves, they don’t make excuses for their appearance, don’t care that they’ve interrupted life.
They appear in every form imaginable:
Destruction in tow, and life torn apart in their wake, it is hard to know where to start cleaning up after them.
Today, a world away from a best friend who reels from the loss of her Dad, I’m a little angry with the Hard Days. I’m less than willing to accept their inevitable presence at our kitchen tables, or in our living rooms, feet propped up on the ottoman.
The loss that punctuates daily life, they’re mean, and they’re ugly.
I’ve said it before, there are no pretty words for loss.
The loss takes your breath away, and you think about the good times, you think about the bad times, you think about how it could be, should be different.
Friends reach out, families spill together… gathering in familiar places to ease the pain of loss and regroup for the new, uncharted phase of life without him or her.
Everyone seeks to honor the memory of this life, to find something to be thankful for in the midst of the harsh reality.
Seeking comfort, and answers.
However, at the end of the day as your heavy head hits the pillow, mulling through the memories and conversations of the day, the answers are a little out of reach.
No one has any pretty words.
The Hard Days don’t just disappear and pretty words don’t create a magic salve… but each day, little by little, we find healing in truth.
That this body, and this earth, it is not the end.
Legacy lives on, in children and grandchildren. In words, in works, and in love.
But even greater still, the soul lives on.
“So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.”