Well, I'm here. Now what?

Hello.
My name is Samantha and I have a few thoughts to share. Some posts (like today's) contain recent material I've written. Others are devotionals and other such collection of thoughts that God gave to me as long as four years ago.

We shall see how this goes.

Leave your comments, tell your friends about this blog, and please, if you see any typos that somehow slipped by me, let me know. (I'm an editor, so typos are epic fails for me...)

The first few posts are editorials that were published in the University of Central Oklahoma's campus newspaper, The Vista. I held the editor-in-chief position of The Vista this summer and had the chance to write four editorials. This is the last one I wrote and it ran under the headline of "School of Sorrow."

Editorials generally are about news but this particular editorial is not about news. It is not about politics and it is not about the campus. It is about people.

My grandfather, who I was close to, died very unexpectedly a couple of weeks ago. Despite dealing with the grief, which will take…well, it takes as long it takes, I have learned some valuable lessons, and maybe it will help someone else through a difficult situation. If not, I guess I am mainly the one that needs this.

First of all, when helping those who have just suffered something tragic, don’t ask questions, just do. Many people were supportive of our family and offered to do whatever we needed, and I know they were sincere. Fact is, people who have just received horrific news, cannot answer questions and cannot think of what they need. If you know the family in need well enough, just make food and bring it to them. Just load the dishwasher without asking. Trust me, it is what is needed, and they will be eternally grateful. We had a few families do that for us and it makes a world of difference. Saddle up your horse and ride to their rescue.

Secondly, I have learned that catching grief causes you to drop other burdens. Suddenly, certain things do not matter anymore. Ever-pressing tasks, pesky problems and annoying memories disappeared from the computer screen of your mind. It is actually a good thing. There were several looming tasks on my calendar the week my Grandpa died and other things that had been nagging at my mind. In one afternoon, that all was swept away.

Thirdly, do not ask if someone is “ok.” No, they are not ok. A family member has just died. This phrase has become so commonplace in our day-to-day conversation, yet to someone filled with grief, it honestly feels like a slap in the face. No, we are not “ok.” We will be eventually, but not today.

Finally, if you ever think your life is not worth living, that it would be far easier for your family to not have to deal with you, please, please think again. Life is ALWAYS worth living and to decide to take yourself out of the game early will leave your family minus one player; with unanswerable questions, unspeakable grief, and silence and space where your words and life should’ve been.

In the words of a Switchfoot song, “Hallelujah, every breath is a second chance.”