Walked outside this morning to discover the first autumn chill of October had finally arrived at my door. Just a couple of days ago the temperatures refused to drop below 80 degrees and the lingering humidity proved just as stubborn.
This morning was a sobering, yet familiar reminder about how the days will most certainly grow colder before the return of Spring can once again warm my heart. With each day that passes I get closer and closer to the coldest day of the year for me, October 22.
Those who don’t know me well might wonder, what makes October 22 so cold? Well it was the day that a very bright light in my life went out. A light that aggravated and provoked me every chance it could up through high school. In college, however, this light became a best friend and allowed me the chance to serve as its best man.
That light was my brother, Marcus. Though I do my best to keep warm with God’s word and time spent with family and friends, the chill of October 22 still seeps in my heart every year. Rather than a sign that something is wrong, I’ve been thinking recently that perhaps this chill in my heart means I’m doing something right.
Rather than fully insulating my heart from everything and everyone, the chill signifies my efforts to keep my heart open to new possibilities and relationships even if it allows loss to seep in. Therefore, I continue to see the great challenge of grief rests not so much in attempting to avoid the cold, but in trying to keep warm.
CJE