The past couple weeks have been a blur. Navigating through life with the constant reminder that my brother is not here to share in life’s wins and loses on this side of heaven. What I would do to see him once more walk through the door, as we all jump up from our seats and tackle him with hugs. For a listening ear and to hear his hard laughter.

Many times I wanted to tell him about the kids school year, and the play that they will be a part of for Christmas. Ask about his adventures, and anticipate his home coming. Ask for prayers for family and friends and vise versa. I miss him so much and his presence is dearly missed.

This grief has been so heavy and something I have realized during this time is the need to control everything, yet everything feeling out of control.

Grief feels like this broken clay jar. I can’t fix it. I can try to pick up the pieces and put them back, but they don’t fit the way it once was. Picking up the pieces are like memories. The memories are part of what is broken, yet can cut and hurt us when we pick it up. They are valuable to us, but are so shattered. We don’t have the person with us any longer, but we do have the broken pieces.

I find I relate to the woman who broke the alabastar jar and wiped her tears on his feet with her hair. Mark 14:3 says she broke the alabastar jar.

And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabastar flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment.

Luke 7:37-38 (ESV)

This woman sought out the Lord, broke open the alabastar flask, annointed him with her tears and ointment.

I see our hearts like the alabastar flask. All of us, have a physical heart that we were born with. The ointment are the things we carry inside. The things that matter to us, matter to God. Surrendering all of our burdens and things we carry, like the woman we bring our alabastar flask (heart) to God and we pour out the ointment (tears, burdens) upon his feet.

God is the only one that can fix it. He doesn’t call us to carry, what he already carried on the cross. There is no sin he won’t forgive if you bring it to him I with a humble heart.

Friend, I am giving him my burdens. I am giving him my grief, pride, and sense of control. The Holy Spirit gives us peace, a humble heart, grace and love.

When life seems to weigh you down, may you remember the woman with the alabastar flask, who poured out her tears and ointment on the feet of Jesus.

Blessings,

Katy Millard