Sometimes we need a gentle nudge to get us across a threshold we know we must cross. Consider this an invitational nudge:  Join us on the Winter Solstice, December 21st, to explore your grief in a safe and caring environment. 

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: ....a time to be born, and a time to die; ... a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance...  (Ecclesiastes) 

Shortly after my first wife died, my daughters and I returned home from a week long trip.  Once again I experienced the sharpness and finality of death:  as I entered the house, I assumed my spouse would greet me at the door and when that didn't occur, I looked for her when I entered "our" bedroom.  Reality set in like emotional, blunt trauma:  I collapsed on the bed in tears.  This is an understatement as I look back on it now. In a few moments, I felt a little hand on my shoulder and the voice of my almost 3-year-old daughter whispered,  "It's all right, Dad!"  It was as if she was saying,  "It's okay to cry...pat, pat, pat, I miss her too!"  (...a time to weep...)

Ten minutes later as the grief continued to pour forth, I felt a second little pat on my back and her next words, "Come on, Dad, let's go out and play!"  (...a time to mourn, and a time to dance...) 

For me it was and continues to be a powerful reminder that the child in all of us knows what we need and how to care for ourselves.  In each one of us there is the sure and certain understanding that it is well and good to shed the tears of grief.  In turn, that allows us to know when it is time to dance again, or in my case, be invited to push my daughter on the swing. 

 Come gather with us and others as we offer time, space, and a pat on the shoulder for your grief in order that you might experience the words of Ecclesiastes offered in an older version, "There is a time to weep, and a time to refrain from weeping..."