Living in the country, you see many examples of metamorphosis. Where there once was a hairy caterpillar, there becomes a moth. Where there once was a striped green worm with a spiky tail, noshing on a milkweed leaf, there becomes a monarch butterfly. Where there once was a grub with legs, crawling up a tree and developing a hard shell, it soon splits and a locust emerges to call in the autumn season…signaling it’s time for school to start.

Just as there is a time for everything in its season, so it is with grief. I was thinking about this yesterday while I was trimming back the wild grape vines threatening to overtake the farm. When this blog began, I was fresh in my grief. I promised you then I would be honest and speak to you from my heart about exactly what it was like…at least for me…to go through the loss of my husband. There were times when it was so painfully ugly that it had to be difficult to read. Yet, so many of you have been here from the very beginning. 

This blog goes through a metamorphosis every time something changes in my life. What started out as a method of pouring out my pain, morphed into learning how to navigate that. It changed and grew just as I changed and grew. It’s not just a grief blog, although there are hundreds of posts in the archives about grief. There was a time, when my grief had subsided to a nagging undercurrent, when I thought maybe I should just quit and make it all about grief. Just leave it there. But I couldn’t stop writing. 

Writing became a part of me…as much a part of me as my hands and feet, my heart and lungs. So I decided to take you with me when I traveled, when I stepped into the dating arena, when I got married. I thought…ok, maybe I’m done now. Maybe I’ll just stop here. But, I kept living…and each new day brought a new experience, a new insight, and new lesson. And it became my devotional. 

In a good cake recipe, bland ingredients like flour get mixed with sweet ingredients like sugar and butter. If baked with nothing else added, you wouldn’t have cake…you’d have some hard, flat, dry cardboard. But add eggs and leavening….take your time….and mix it well….and it rises high and beautiful. My life…my stories…my experiences are the flour and sugar. The scripture at the bottom of each post…illustrating my thinking in that particular moment…that’s the leavening. The eggs. The ingredient that makes the finished product perfect.

I know it’s not a grief blog so much anymore, even though I touch on the topic from time to time. That’s the nature of metamorphosis. Things are always changing…even grief. The numbing pain of the first year, the sharp pain of the second year, the personal growth of my third year, the stretching of my wings in the fourth, the explorations of the fifth, and finally…being remarried in the sixth…my grief has gone through its own metamorphosis and has settled into an undercurrent. A background noise that I have become accustomed to, yet it’s still very much there. 

❤️

“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.”

2 Corinthians 3:18 ESV