A poem written as I walked through grief's solemn halls.

These lessons weren’t only for me, but for others. One day I may need to call on them to help someone else—maybe through these journals, maybe years from now. It isn’t mine to wish for a second choice. It isn’t yours either. God is calling you through this grief. Answer Him, and be okay. I wish you nothing less.

A brother in Christ said to me shortly after Dad died, “There goes a great man, and there goes a big chunk of Germo too.” He was right. Some of me went with Dad. But some of what went needed to go. God is stripping away things I couldn’t see because pride distorted my reflection.

October 2004 What medicine do you need? As I’ve spoken with others walking through grief, I’ve noticed something consistent: it often...

Jonah was told to go to Nineveh with a message from God. He didn’t like the assignment. So instead of going right, he went left—ran toward Tarshish and ended up inside a fish. I might not be a prophet, but there’s still a world that needs Truth. And God has given me something—a talent for writing.

July 2004 Water moves beneath the surface Anyone who lives near a deep river or the ocean knows what an undertow is. It’s been years...

May 2004 This is not my beautiful house I’ve always enjoyed pulling meaning from unexpected places—applying quotes from movies or song...

April 2004 Who's voice am I listening to now? In the days immediately following my dad’s death, I was in shock—numb, dazed. That fog...

Walking Through Blog #000, an introduction to my collection of journals dealing with grief.