Grief is
The house guest that has worn out their welcome.
It is
The nagging wife who needs your attention and won’t stop until she gets what she wants.
Grief is
Like that time when I was 6 and I flew down the slide only to land on my back with the wind knocked out of me.
It is
Perpetual winter, cold, harsh, bitter.
Grief is
The Krubera Cave, an inverted Mt. Everest that sends you 7,000 feet deep into the soul of the earth with a terminal sump. No inward or outward flow.
It is
A healing wound only to be ripped open again by a jagged edge you’ve brushed against.
Grief is
The neighbors barking dog at 3 am keeping you awake.
It is
The Steamboat Geyser, erupting with no less power than the first.
Grief is
The God of creation watching His only Son willingly give up His life for those who will reject Him.
It is
Now.
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