Hating Goodbyes This Day

I hate goodbyes, so it stands to reason that I've never been a fan of death.

I remember as a little girl, panicking before Grandma Springer's funeral, because I just couldn't handle the sorrow.

And I became even less a fan when in college my tight-knit group of friends learned the lesson that we're not as invincible as we thought, when we lost one of our own.

So, I just don't think about it.

I'm the one who only likes to watch funny movies.

Who doesn't like to hear or read sad stories.

Who desperately tries to see the silver lining... even if there isn't one.

But when I got the call this morning that I lost a co-worker and friend I was reminded again of how much I hate death.

I know that as a Christian, death is not final. But when you're the one left behind, it can often feel that way.

He knew I played keys, so he came to church with me two weeks ago to hear. Neither of us knew that as of yesterday, he'd be lucky enough to be enjoying in person, what we were singing about.

Wish I could hug you one more time, Sir.

Until then, I'll be the one down here... looking for that silver lining.