Today, I sold stock.  Did I just say that?
I still shake my head in disbelief that I'm even considering investment strategies and financial goals...not the skill set I thought I would be honing.  
 I knew it made sense to let go of some shares in order to take advantage of better income opportunities, but giving the green light made me sick. Not from fear or ignorance...purely from raw emotion; Rob and I invested our meek savings in this start-up Seattle company early in our marriage and selling even a fraction felt like letting go of a part of him. 
I don't surrender well. Like last fall when he was so ill...I remember that sinking feeling of knowing I could no longer hold on to him; I had to release him to God.  Yet, I thought I might just drown in all that surrender!

Stocks aren't the only things needing some paring, so does Rob's closet full of clothes.  My brain knows his wardrobe would serve other men well, but is my heart ready? I wonder if, like fall pruning, timing is critical in order to produce more health than harm. If I let go of them too early, will I regret that I can't take back that part of him? Maybe, I need to protect myself from any unnecessary exposure, any more damage. Will I ever be ready?


Culling is such a difficult part of grief work, but at some point, I must put aside a few cherished items that will preserve memories, but make room for new ones.
As I face the painful task of pruning the past, I'm reminded that "Christ is faithful as son over God's house. And we are his house, if we hold on to our courage and the hope of which we boast." Hebrews 3:6 NIV 1978 
Praying that I will hold on tightly to courage and hope, the things of faith.