A View of Grief

When someone you love has a terrible illness, you don't plan for them to die - at least I didn't. You focus on giving them hope for each day they have left, love in the moments of heartbreak and grief for what they've lost, grace in the ugliness of pain and gentleness in their fragility.
The thing is you don't just do this for them; you do this for yourself too. You do this so you can fight the fight, so you can survive alongside them while you try to be strong, encouraging and always hopeful.
Inevitably there will be an end to the fight - it's that way for all of us. But still it knocks you to your knees and then enters grief.  Grief is a void ... where love once lived there is now an empty space ... the view is colorless, it feels disjointed, isolating, and raw.

A View of Grief
oil on canvas

The day after I got home from buring my brother, I was on my knees sobbing. I had no words to talk to God about what I was feeling. So I said - You know, I know you know, it hurts ... and this is the vision that came to my mind. A colorless scene of disjointed, crowded buildings and lines. I was full of deep reds, all churning inside me and as I walked the street my feel left footprints from my raw and aching heart. 

I've been feeling the burn of the Holy Spirit telling me to get it out so I did my best at putting a moving vision onto a still canvas.