One of the most puzzling aspects of grief is the ongoing challenge of seeking.

Grief is our finest, most enduring labor of love - we remember, we honor, we build our life anew for the future.

Grief is perhaps the least cerebral experience in all of life.

In our heart we find our inmost spiritual connection to God.

Our physical hand is perhaps the most tactile part of our body with nerve endings that allow us to feel and touch and sense.

When we grieve, for a while shock protects us from the reality of death and the enormity of our loss. But one day the shock of what’s happened to us – whether suddenly or over time - wears off and life begins to seem a little more real again. When gradually we return more to the dailiness of our life, we sense deep within a challenging imbalance - we’re clinging desperately to the past, yet we’re alive in the present, and at the same time we’re anxious about the future without the one we love. We're especially vulnerable to the inevitable setbacks of our individual grief.

When we grieve most of us easily succumb to anxiety which, at its essence, is chronic worry.

When we're in the throes of our deepest grief often we forget that God is for us.

To reconcile our experience of death to life, at some time we must retreat unto ourselves and be still.

One of the subtle shifts we experience when someone we love dies is the re-ordering of our place in life.

When the heavy rock of death enters the deep water of our life, grief creates so much more than a ripple effect.

Whether we like it or not, when we grieve we're the ones riding backward.