For Jordan.

I hear the grave groaning tonight. Not this one.
Please, God, not this one.

He whispers again, just as He did the night I held my mom one last time. He reminds me, His great wings flutter above settling down over the devastation. And His love, a heavy blanket of warmth and comfort and a peace I have yet to find elsewhere wraps around us all.

Tonight we groan and we grieve and we ache and we moan. Our hearts torn. Rent in two by this loss. And we rest in Him, a Father who draws us near and says, “Yes, I know. I know how it hurts. And just as I hold you now in this arm, I’m holding him in my other.” It feels a world away, but we are still one family. His blood running through us calling us brothers and sisters, friends, children who can lay their head upon His breast, upon the heart of Emmanuel.

Listening to His heartbeat, the heartbeat of a King whose side was pierced and whose dying breath silenced all of creation. Whose rising again signaled the defeat of death, and shouted and shone and echoed glorious ripples throughout all of eternity.

And I nod against the heart of my Father. And realize. The grave groans because it is empty. Dear Jesus, it is empty! Oh death, where is your sting! Oh Lord . . . ease the sting. Tonight. Tomorrow when morning comes. Every day after.

Lead the aching and broken where they do not know where to go. Each foot in front of the other into your wondrous healing, into the unknown, upon those great waters where trust is without borders. Where we ask “why” and we question and trust flows fluid through out veins, because love paid it all.

Today, love won in the heart of my dear friend.

Jordan Reed, beloved husband, father, son, friend. A legacy who, with one bright-blue-eyed smile, gave you a glimpse of Jesus. 11230968_1029920777019308_1155380881703882615_n

(Jordan, seeing his beautiful wife-to-be)

If you would like to contribute to the medical fund and give a little to help Jordan’s family, please click here.

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