Grieving to the Vine

Maybe that’s the point of grieving… that inside the word lays other words? That grieving is 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠. And that it’s not just giving that is the point but it’s the giving to the 𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 that makes it sacred. And as tears find themselves leaving our eyes, a 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 is formed, giving nutrients to a land far beyond what we can see. And maybe it’s the grieving that makes us vintage? Sort of like a sweet and savory souvenir proving we journeyed through a dark barrel but that this dark barrel produced a new wine and because of that we can look to the hills and know where our hope comes from… but could it be? That in the death and the pain and the loss and the being stomped on, that He was there? And could it be that in the grieving and the healing and the questions and prayers better yet the unanswered prayers, that He’s still there… Just being a vine, doing what vines do best… making new wine. ⁣

“Grieving is giving. Give it to me. I’ll make a river with it.” ⁣
- The Vine ⁣