Anniversaries can be so hard
As May 2nd approaches, many feelings compete in my heart. I love spring, yet the ache in my heart is more intense this time of year than any other. It is hard to believe it has been four years since Zach died, yet the pain is as fresh as it was four years ago. It is not as debilitating, but it is still so sore. As I was running in Peterson Creek a few days ago, the sun came out just after a fresh rain. Droplets of water on the branches, fresh Saskatoon tree blossoms and mountain bluebirds hushed the grief in my heart. Saskatoon flowers mean a great deal to me. My friend Lana Langevin, our greatest prayer warrior during Zach's sickness, shared a moment she had with God, as she questioned why he was not sparing Zach. I would like to share her note. Please think of Zach as you see the white blossoms and hold him in your heart.
I took a walk on the trails yesterday and found myself praying for Zach. I felt a rising in me and prayed God would spare him. I shared with God how we had all learned so much from him already—“wasn’t that enough?” I stood in front of a newly blooming Saskatoon berry shrub. The flowers were so beautiful and fragrant and I picked one to smell. God seemed to be saying to me, “These are the most beautiful part of the plant, but they do not last long. They die.” My objections were quieted and I felt humbled. But God pressed on and I heard, “What happens when the flowers die?” I had to think a moment and nodded, “Fruit appears.”
