No wonder Chelsea's memory had become her greatest weapon, a sword she wielded, wounding others to protect herself. For decades she had waged this war, but at what cost? Now she stood alone on the battlefield, bleeding and bruised. There were no victors in this war, and Chelsea counted herself among the casualties.

Imagine Jesus today: He is leaning over, bending down close to someone who is hurt. He's listening. His eyes fill with tears as He hears that person's troubles. Then His hand gently brushes away a tear. He was hurt once too. He understands.

Love extends an olive leaf to the loved one and says, "I have hope in you." Love is just as quick to say, "I have hope for you." You can say those words. You are a flood survivor. By God's grace you have found your way to dry land. You know what it's like to see the waters subside. And since you do, since you passed through a flood and lived to tell about it, you are qualified to give hope to someone else.

I keep thinking of all the people who cast despairing eyes toward the dark heavens and cry "Why?" And I imagine him. I imagine him listening. I picture his eyes misting and a pierced hand brushing away a tear. And although he may offer no answer, although he may solve no dilemma, although the question may freeze painfully in midair, he who also was once alone, understands.

Ponder this the next time your world goes from calm to chaos… . Jesus knows how you feel.

Blessed are those who mourn, For they shall be comforted. MATTHEW 5:4

Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Davidson, I Called Him Roosk, He Called Me Dad: A Collection of Thoughts About a Father's Faith, Love, and Grief After Losing His Son (privately printed), 36—37. CHAPTER 11: BLIND INTERSECTIONS

Maar toen ze de tranen voelde opwellen, weigerde ze te gaan huilen. Ze duwde de herinneringen ver van zich vandaan.

Tragedy, no matter how sad, becomes boring to those not caught in its addictive caress.

When I find myself filling with rage over the loss of a beloved, I try as soon as possible to remember that my concerns and questions should be focused on what I learned or what I have yet to learn from my departed love. What legacy was left which can help me in the art of living a good life?

Could I tell her now? The terrible pain assured me that I couldn't. What he did to me, and what I allowed, must have been very bad if already God let me hurt so much.