The Love We Can’t Give

This last week at the Thursday night table reading, I stopped by the refreshments table to pour a cup of coffee. I’m not sure what brand of coffee was brewed, but it smelled exactly like the coffee my Papaw used to drink. For a moment, I was teleported out of the gym in Mechanicsville all the way down to King’s Mountain, NC. It felt like I shot back in time 20 years when my Papaw let me try a cup of coffee for the first time. He’s gone now, but experiencing a memory of him so viscerally made me smile though I felt keen sadness.

I once heard that grief is the word we use to describe the love inside of us with nowhere to go. To presently love someone who is no longer here with me. With nowhere to go, that love collects in the corners of our eyes and forms lumps in our throats. When I swallowed the lump in my throat with my first sip of coffee, I silently thanked God for my Papaw. I held a silent prayer that God would help me to look and live like him.

Sometimes, it feels like grief sneaks up and pounces on us while we were caught unaware. What do you do in those moments? We can kick and scream. We can numb it and try to run away. Or, we can do what we’re meant to do with all things in our lives, and bring our pain to God.

Thank you God for the love we get to share, even when it feels like we have nowhere to put it. What love we can’t give, we give back to you - asking that you’ll mend our broken hearts and bind up our wounds. Amen.