As we grieve, our experience of remembering slowly shifts. It takes on a rhythm of its own.

What we discover as we grieve is that our view to life is constantly evolving and changing.

Sometimes the effect of refurnishing our personal space - physically and emotionally - looks and feels a little at odds with our surroundings.

Dealing with all the choices, options, and emotional challenges of a life irrevocably changed by the death of one we love is heavy lifting indeed.

It's an emotional commitment to make a major life change.

Over time I've found that one of the greatest hurdles of moving forward on the journey through grief is the active pursuit of redefining our individual self.

Our life serves a purpose, we're going somewhere...

Light lets us see the way through our grief, even as we live for a while in the darkness of our pain and sorrow.

I don't like to be in the dark or power-less.

The work of grief is a little like farming - it's a hard, daily encounter with uncertainty and the possible outcome of total loss.

What does the garden of the heart look like, especially as we near the other side of grief?

The psalmist beautifully describes God's presence to us, especially when we grieve, "He leads me beside still waters" (Psalm 233:2 RSV).