Loose Pieces

It has been 7 months since I experienced the ravaging tsunami of the death of my father. Every fiber of my

being remembers that moment my mother called. She had explained quickly that the charge nurse said it did not look good and that my father would not make it through the night. This was unexpected even in the midst of walking through his cancer journey for 10 months. I was driving through Bellevue, WA on 405 South. My best friend was in the passenger seat of the car and told me to pull off the road to wait. I remember the way the air looked. I remember the quiet before the storm. Then, just five minutes later, a sign of life from the phone lit up the screen. I hit the button to answer, "Hey..."….. My mother's voice shaking through tears…. "He's gone."

(Insert a reaction that I did not know that I was capable of producing)

My life was swept out to sea and all the parts separated like loose pieces of driftwood. Tumbling and turning,

wave after wave. What took years to build internally felt like it was obliterated in seconds by the force of loss. I had spent 7 years "becoming Cortney".…. or at least I was still getting to know who she was. I had discovered parts of me, but I did not realize that I was building particular parts of my identity based off of aspects of shaky foundations. However, grief will test the authenticity of each brick and it will expose if the "wise man built his house upon the rock or the sand".

Grief is not just one linear emotion. It could be many emotions all at once leaving you to feel overwhelmed and

numb all at the same time. As a trusted friend of mine has told me on several occasions, "The stages of

grief are not linear." We like linear though... We like to know the next step and all that it entails. Grief and loss are friends who love to play hide-and-go-seek. You can hide as much as you want, but they will seek you out and are relentless in the pursuit.

Seven years ago, I gave my entire life into the hands of Jesus. What happened to the soil of my heart during

that time was a complete overhaul due to the countless deaths of self during that time. However, the losses I experienced, though hard, were ones that needed to go. I had been rescued from my proverbial Egypt and could justify the losses. They were destructive patters, relationships, ways, and beliefs.

Seven years later, the overhaul of the soil of my heart was not welcomed because of a surrender from apparent

sin. I think the hardest and deepest deaths we can experience are those from the loss of the things in our life

that give us meaning... joy... they add value.… and truly make us better because they are life-giving. However,

"things" and "people" and "resources" and yes, even "ministry" are not the Source of Life. The foundation of the

life of a disciple is built on the transparency, intimacy, and vulnerability of the relationship with God through His abiding presence. When our "good" things become little gods, our human nature craves comfort and control at deeper levels, numbing our spirit to its desperation for intimacy with Him.

As much as I hate to say this, even our good things must be eradicated from the soil of our hearts based on the

will of The Lord and His grace to uncover such a delicate season of restructuring. This provides the space our hearts need to remember who God really is. We gain a clear perspective of the reality that we love comfort and control. Jesus knows this and He suffers with us in this process as The Father chooses to separate. The steps in between in these delicate seasons are where we find ourselves restless. We want an antidote of sorts to stop the pain and the longing. That if He could just "fix it", we would be better off.

However, He teaches us this one very elementary, yet profound principle: He is with us. He dwells with man in

our hearts. He makes His home in us. He is with us in only the way that a Perfect Father can be.

I am thankful for the tsunami that interrupted my life. It has been a sacrifice of thanksgiving, but none the less, I

would not trade knowing the heart of my Father for getting my earthly father back. That is excruciating to admit

and confess, because he was so many things to me.

At 35 years old, I continue to learn that "becoming" is to be held with loose hands and an open heart. Maybe,

like me, you have experienced loss in other areas of your life and He is "clearing your land" too. Consider and

contemplate that this could be where some of the deepest abiding can occur. It is truly in the place where life seems too much and He does not feel enough... well, friend... THAT is where the ground needs to break. That is the hardened soil that needs His Presence more than anything.

Through the power of the Holy Spirit, I pray that this simple truth would go down into the soil of our hearts in a

fresh way: I pray that it would be revealed to our hearts, through Jesus, that He is with us. That His Presence is

enough and we would know it in its fullness.

Among the Loose Pieces,

By Grace,

Cortney Rae