Someone spoke today of God Moments and my spirit hissed and sputtered and groaned inside of me because I do not know how to reconcile the moments of low ache with the high flying moments and I am not sure that we are supposed to use that phrase the way we do- after something bright and good happens and we suddenly remember Him.  I think I have to handle all of the moments, have to layer them because they must have been birthed together in the Sacred.  I have been thinking of this for days and still, I am unsure how.

This moment: the family stands in front of her casket and their hands can't stop touching her face because this moment is urgent, this one is almost over and the family snags and bleeds and begins to die in front of me. The moment from this morning-- him and pancakes and the laughter burst when he walked over and slid the silly shape onto my plate.

I would like to keep them separate.   It would be callous not to, it would be unseemly.  I would like to say that this one is pancakes and that one is not.  This one is from Him and that one just can't be. I wanted to stand and shout harsh when I heard that phrase slip easy from his lips this morning.  I wanted to yell.  Don't teach me of the good God moments, speak of the sorrowing moments.  Teach the God found in those, please, because I am clashing inside, I am unable to sort these into something neat and comfortable and I am lost trying to navigate this, I am racing about without moving.

How do you mix the pancake moments with the casket moments?  How do I sit there in sorrow and then in laughter and not believe that both came from Him and that He is not in both?  The family that is no longer whole- He must be there.  This love that is new and sometimes silly and growing strong- His too.