We tend to think of bereavement as being a state of sorrow over the death of a loved one. But this term is derived from an archaic word indicative of someone being ruthlessly deprived of something by having it forcibly ripped away.
When something is ripped, it is split apart in a harsh, rough manner.
Judson was slowly (over the course of 5 months), but violently torn away from us. As he died, parts of us were dying too, leaving a jagged edge of intense pain.
So how do I live when I have been torn apart?
A ripped piece of paper cannot be fused back together to wholeness, but it can offer a more beautiful edge for creative purposes.
Father, will you take this torn life and bring beauty from its jaggedness to create something unique for Your purposes?