Marissa Alice Bundy, October 2, 1990 – March 6, 2017

The buds are waking up.

Though I love the silhouette of winter trees against a moody sky, I am always glad for the first hushed signs of spring. Its sure coming is a balm–living things renewed and fresh, the hope of life after a frosty, dormant season.

It is also the season she left us.

That winter was a cold and barren struggle, the battle of a lifetime. Pain and weariness and sorrow. Holding on to truth while letting go of her.

Ultimately, all struggle is spiritual. All suffering is a reckoning with our sinfulness and God’s sovereignty. It’s all a wrestling with God.

A yielding to the Potter’s hands, while pressing the truth of His goodness into our souls.

Marissa’s struggle is over, every sorrow stilled.

I’ve been remembering. Looking at pictures and reliving her story with open hands but aching heart. I miss her every day.

Death is an enemy. I won’t ever forget its merciless grip. But neither will I forget God’s glorious redemption, His mercy-filled plan to rescue believers from its hold.

I won’t forget my beautiful Savior.

The pages of the story turn, and I am given this broken tenderness. The grace to consider eternity every day. A longing for a place I’ve never been. Courage to keep running my own race with perseverance and hope.

I’m learning the heart of the One who holds the world in His hands, the One who holds my Marissa.

The One who is making all things new.