Last night I spent the evening with my father and step-mother in their adorable Florida townhome. I asked to spend the night, so I could fly out of the airport near their home. I am on my way to see my 10 month old grandson Parker. I haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving and can’t wait to hug his little face and watch him play!

So on this morning flight, as I look out my airplane window, I’m struck with thoughts of the spectrum of life. This morning my 85 year old father dropped me off on the airport curb, and now I’m on my way to see his youngest great grandchild, not even yet a year old. And here I am in the middle of that 84 year spectrum, on the edge of entering the next “decade” of life, single, four adult children scattered across the world.

Dad and Gunn (my Swedish stepmom) have a little guest room with a comfy trundle bed tucked in the corner for the occasional overnight guest. The walls of the room are lined with family photos, her family photos on the left shelf and our family photos on the right shelf. In the middle are photos of their blended world, nine sweet years of their marriage represented. My heart aches as I relive so many of the moments in these photos. I miss the seasons they represent in my brother’s and my life; the excitement on our wedding days, our children during the early years…growing eventually to four each, our 2015 extended family vacation in Chesapeake Bay. Little did we know at the time how precious this time together would be.

I started a new book study with some of my closest friends this week. “The Broken Way” by Ann Voskamp explores living in our not-so-perfect world. Some of us wear our badges of the breaks for all to see; divorce, disease, death. In some ways I think these badges of brokenness are easier to bear than the silent ones; depression, anxiety, hopelessness. Much of my brokenness is evident, and my friends have rallied around me to make sure I know I am loved, that I do not have to carry the burden of my losses alone. But the deeper, hidden breaks are there and when they bubble to the surface that is when I have to breathe deep, whisper a prayer of “help” and know that the momentary anxiousness will pass. I know that God’s peace will again invade my soul and balance me out again.

As we enter the Holy Week of Easter, this year I find myself looking at Christ’s death differently. We are so quick to talk about the cross and what it did for us, providing for the forgiveness of our sins, allowing a way for God to see us through the eyes of the perfect sacrifice, dear Jesus giving his life for us to be made whole. I fully embraced this truth over 30 years ago when I submitted my life to Him. But now I am sinking into the depths of Christ’s broken body, what preceded his glorious resurrection. Here is where I am now in my broken 58 year old life. My Lord truly, truly understands my brokenness. He didn’t only go to the cross for my sins. He showed me that there will be broken times in my life, and he showed me how to walk the hard road of disappointment, betrayal, and even death. I’m embracing those difficult days leading up to Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. I’m trying to squeeze out the truth Christ wants me to see in how He responded during those darkest hours.

There is a sacred moment where I hold my grandson and he touches my face all over, my nose, my eyes, my mouth… It makes me laugh from way down in my belly, and I relish his innocence. And I realize how wonderful it feels to laugh hard and loud, with abandonment. Don’t we all want more of those moments in our life?

I woke up early today and peek in to see if my little guy is stirring before I leave for my two hour drive to the airport. Thankfully he is, so I go and pick him up in all his cuddliness. I plant him safely into his daddy’s arms, my firstborn son. And I realize how incredibly blessed I am at this moment. I have the wonderful beginning of a new generation to share my love with, even in the midst of my brokenness.

A dear friend texts me as I sit at the airport waiting to board. “Just checking in on you. How are you?” And I reply honestly that I’m rather blue, and not looking forward to some of the trials I’m heading back home to, but that I’m so blessed to have had the weekend with family.” And she reminds me that yes, my life is full of blessings and heartaches, and it’s sometimes so hard to feel them both at the same time.

Ann writes in her book, “In shattered places, with broken people, we are most near the broken heart of Christ, and find our whole selves through the mystery of death and resurrection, through the mystery of brokenness and abundance.”

Oh Lord, that I could live this truth out with trust, trust that you are taking my broken places and turning them into abundance. Today I embrace your death with deeper gratitude than ever before, and I know without a doubt that resurrection is happening in this tattered life of mine.