Joy and Sorrow

The truth is, I thought maybe this holiday season wouldn't be as hard. But this morning, I woke up to the news that my grandma had passed away unexpectedly in the night. With one phone call, the story changed. Today, my friends were sending me photos of my book arriving in their mail boxes while I tried to fry eggs in a complete daze. I wrote the book that I needed fifteen years ago. And I wrote the book that I need today. Because is there ever really a year that doesn't hold darkness? Is there ever a year that we don't need hope? 

This summer, I sat in a crowd of women and learned how joy and sorrow run on parallel tracks through our lives. They are inseparable. I used to feel frustrated by this because it felt like every happy thing was tainted with sorrow. But in the past few years, I've found comfort on those parallel tracks. Because it also means that all the hard and heavy things are intertwined with joy. Thank Jesus it is this way. The grief would be unbearable without the tiny bits of joy.

Tonight, I made waffles in the vintage waffle maker my grandma gave me after I accidentally decluttered mine. On Monday, my book about hope will release into the world while I stand beside a grave and bury someone I love. And I'll be keeping my eyes wide open in search of hope. Because hope always shines the brightest in the dark.