My son, a Messianic Christian, celebrated Passover with his extended Oklahoma family tonight.
At one point, they ate the “hallel sandwich”: horse radish and a honey/nut/apple mixture between two pieces of matzo.
“The horse radish represents the bitterness of our sins—things like Jolene’s death.”
“The sweet mixture represents the sweetness of God.” He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “Like the baby we’re going to have in December!”
It’s official. Conceived during the days of grief following Jolene’s death, her niece or nephew will (probably) arrive before the end of the year. (And yes, I have Jaran’s permission to share their news!)
What a gift from God, the sweet cut with the bitter, grace when we feel grace-less.
It's no accident, this first biological grandchild at the time of my greatest grief. Thank You, Loving Heavenly Father.
(In chronological order) Since Jolene died, I’ve had a book published, a book and an article sold, and learned about a grandchild on the way. Not to mention the daily support of friends from every side. How foolish to let grief blind me to God’s abundant goodness.