Thursdays are my days to attend Judson’s gravesite.**
This afternoon, as I left the sunshine near our home and drove toward the memorial park, I found myself in an unexpected downpour of rain. It appeared to come from nowhere, drenching my car and the other vehicles traveling the 55 freeway. The rainy weather felt in union with the depths of my grief, particularly this past week.
Interestingly, when I arrived at the arborous, grassy land of burial plots, I was struck by the fact that though there were dark ominous clouds surrounding the area, sunshine was breaking through to illuminate Judson’s gravesite. The sun warmed me while I arranged his flowers, cleaned the gravemarker, and emoted over the death of my boy. Yet, the rain also continued to fall. I felt each heavy drop from heaven.
It was as though the sun was reminding me of God’s beauty, goodness, and grace while the rain represented God’s sorrow and tears; I felt His solidarity with me in my grief.