You must understand,

the moment I heard of your death

my heart fell out of my chest.

It fell to the ground,

and like a tender piece of fruit,

it bruised.

My own two hands

were wiping the globs of tears

rolling down my face,

with a searing hiss

they burned my skin.

Grief was the one

who picked my heart up off the dirt,

and gave it a home.

It held my bruised bloody heart,

like a piece of fruit,

up to the light.

Grief didn’t flinch at the sight of it.

Instead it savored

the leaking juice of pain that fell from

my heart,

and with two hands

Grief crushed my heart.

I wailed and I screamed

and none of it mattered,

because you were gone.

You are gone.

Grief holds my heart captive.

When it has hurt for too long,

Grief is tender and comforts

my bleeding, beating heart.

Oh, and when I ignore it,

Grief forces me to remember,

and rips a bight out of my heart

as it’s juicy pain

drips down the arm of Grief.

I can barely breath

with the weight of Griefs grip.

What am I supposed to do!

I have never been taught

how to grieve!

I have never been taught

what to do with it!

When it gets too much

my heart is like a rotten fruit,

and I am nauseous,

physically nauseous.

All I know

is to barf out tears

and feel the bruising pain.

For comfort and tenderness

I don’t allow myself to feel.

Because it is so much.

I love,

I love you.

You are gone.

Where do I put my love for you?

Grief has given my heart back to me.

I am sitting here

with my crumpled, rotten heart,

still somehow beating,

in my grimy hands.

And I miss you.

And I love you.

In all this bloody mess,

I am starting to see the good.

Jesus asks me for my heart,

I give it freely to Him.

Its healed the moment

His fingers brush against it.

With all my heart

I hate that you died,

but I know you are very much alive.

You are very much alive,

and very much in peace.

I know this

because the One who created me

and you

is holding you in His arms.

I see you.

I see you alive and so peaceful.

I see you breathing.

I see you in the arms of the One

whom I love most.

He holds my hand

and He gives me comfort.

It still aches and aches,

yet He sits with me in the pain

of your death.

I am not alone.

Our good, good Father is here with us.

I am just so, so very sad.

I didn’t want you to die.

Yet I could ask for nothing greater,

than for you to experience no pain,

and the love of the Father

for all eternity.