Grief dissolved

Understanding the continuity of life

Last year when my mother passed on, I didn't know how I would ever get over it. Though I felt comforted by the truth that my mother, as God's image and likeness, is immortal, I nevertheless could not shake the sadness associated with not seeing her. In the days immediately following her passing, I often worried that she might be frightened or that she might feel alone. I longed to know, tangibly, where she was, and I felt helpless, unable to talk with her and hold her hand.

As I flew home to prepare for her funeral, I was engulfed by grief. I gazed mournfully out the window at the blazing orange sky as the sun began to set. Soon our plane became completely immersed in darkness. That's just how I feel, I thought. No matter how hard I tried to understand that Mom's true, spiritual identity could not have died, I still missed her sweet face, her voice, her bright laughter.

As I left the airport, I noticed a full moon rising in the black sky. How bright and full it appeared. It then occurred to me that the moon's brightness was not from the moon at all; it was from the sun. The sun was still shining as brightly as ever. The brightness of the light reflected by the moon proved the existence of the sun. The fact that I couldn't see the sun didn't mean it wasn't shining.

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Spiritual pioneers meet in Boston
October 12, 1998
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