How does one reconcile it? Grief that is. To reconcile is to have “cause to coexist in harmony – to make or show to be compatible”. So, here’s my unanswerable question; how does one reconcile the reality of our vulnerability toward suffering with the opportunity – the order even – to live in each moment with joy? Cuz I’m not gonna lie. I don’t find grief to be compatible with life.

I recently saw this video of a swim instructor quite literally tossing a small baby into a pool. It took my breath away, as she was standing on the side of the pool and threw the baby in as one might do a small child once they are capable of knowing how to handle such a situation. I’ve seen instructors quickly dunk a small baby underwater, but they are in the pool, holding tight to them, and able to respond to the baby’s needs.

After tossing him in, this instructor very calmly gets into the pool herself and makes her way over to the baby, who had, thanks be to God, righted himself and was floating on his back with his face up and out of the water. Even then, the instructor didn’t reach for the baby, but rather held her hand above his face and started snapping loudly to hold the baby’s attention and encourage him to stay face up.

Come to find out, there is a name for this innate behavior, called the “bradycardiac” or more commonly known as “the dive”. It is a reflex we are all born with that causes young babies, up to about six months of age, to open their eyes and hold their breath when they find themselves underwater. It doesn’t mean, of course, you can leave them to their own devices and hope for the best. But the beauty of God’s design proves once again brilliant. He has, in every way, given us what we need to survive.

A friend of mine very recently lost her precious son to injuries sustained in a terrible car accident. This tragedy has rocked my world and that of every parent who knows this beautiful family. The depth of this grief is so very deep and one any of us could easily find ourselves drowning in. I have been struggling – immensely – over the past few days to right myself, bring my face above water and breathe.

I once read something that said, “when one mother grieves, every mother grieves”. This speaks perfectly to the river of tears I know are being shed on behalf of our comrade who is heroically living what any of us would define as our worst nightmare.

From the moment I read news of the accident and her request for prayers, I found myself locked in this place of numb disbelief, trying to reconcile the sadness and fear with the necessities of life that don’t end when all stability is interrupted. The physical heaviness in my chest kept signaling my need to breathe but suddenly everything about my day and the generalities of life felt inappropriate.

News of his passing, and the heroic donation of life through the gift of his organs, came through this beautifully scripted message from his mama through which she somehow righted herself, if even for those few moments, took a breath and shared with the world the stunning, irreplaceable beauty that was – and will forever be – her son.

Grief. It is so heavy and none of us can make sense of this tragedy that is the risk of living and loving. But somehow, the tragedy of not living each moment with joy, and loving with everything we are, is so much worse. And so, we are all called to look to Jesus standing above us, snapping His fingers to keep our attention and focus. In Him, and only in Him, we right ourselves and we breathe.