There will be many valleys in this life. But Steve’s message was undeniable:
“It’s worth it to walk with God through every one of them."
Worship for me had become stagnant in the outdoor chapel service—measured, rote, eyes cast to the ground. Looking at the sky opened up a chasm of awareness of the distance between Steve and me. It was as vast as the distance between the heavens where he was and earth where he left me. Even a quick glance upward choked my dry words of praise and silenced their vibrancy within my aching heart. Week after week, unexpressed grief mounted with the power of an approaching tsunami that unleashed on the Sunday morning we sang Steve’s favorite song.
“Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty.”
I raised my face to the heavens and stood in silence as the words, music, and sun warmed me. Unstoppable tears flowed from under my sunglasses unchecked, and God gave me a glimpse of Steve in heaven, worshiping God to the same song, at the same tempo, and in the same key.
“Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty.”
Surround sound of earth and heaven joined in vibrant praise and Steve turned, his compassionate eyes locking with mine in earth-life familiarity.
“Dawn!” he called. “It’s worth it!” And then he was gone.
His enthusiastic proclamation changed me. I will continue to grieve and there will be many valleys in this life. But Steve’s message was undeniable.
“It’s worth it to walk with God through every one of them."