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The frailty of life.

Outside it is so light. Everything is covered by a thick layer of crispy white snow. The sky is a light blue, and everything is still.

Stillness. Sometimes it’s necessary to stop and just be. Just breathe realising that we are alive.

It’s been a week surrounded by sadness. At the start of the week I learnt that a young women I’d been working with, who was hoping for a better future, had died that weekend. A sudden death that shocked us all. A life lost so very young. Her future hopes and plans never to be lived and walked in.

Death always wakes us up to the reality of life. To the realisation that life is so fragile. That we need to live not just in what is to come, but be present in the moment.

Sadness. As I sat in the chapel yesterday, following her no longer on a journey in life, but on a journey to her final place of rest, I listened to her family share of who she had been to them. It was good to hear them speak of a girl who had lived moments of family and who embraced those around her. I felt so sad to have only gotten to see glimpses of the true her, and accept the reality that her journey of finding back to who she was ended far too early.

Hope. Having walked through this sad week I hope that something good can come out of this tragedy. I hope that this reminder of the frailty of life can make us live more intentionally. Love each other better. And walk not just in the ahead, but value every moment of this gift each of us has been given called life.

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