You know the kind. You pull at at, scrape it with your fingernail, wet and rub it, peel at it and it just refuses to come off. Stubborn sticky sticker. So you just ignore it and finally forget it's there. Until suddenly one day the slightest corner reaches up and adheres to your new dress. Or your newly painted nails. Or your freshly pressed tablecloth to impress the new neighbors. And you realize you never really, genuinely spent the time and energy to deal with it when you first inherited that stupid sticker along with the item you desired and bought. Grief. Like a stupid sticker gets picked at and half-heartedly rubbed, but it just keeps sticking back up and reminding you of its scar, it's ugly presence, at the worst times in life.
Grief. I thought I knew it. The ache in my heart was as big as Hoover Dam, holding back the floodgates of tears and emotions buried deep beneath my pride and hurt and fear. But it just keeps sticking back up, collecting grime around it, irritating and dirtying everything it touches.
And then one day a friend shares her "secret" with you. Oil. The beautiful, fragrant oil of shared grief healed by the Holy Spirit that so easily removes that stubborn sticker. And as the unwanted slips away, you see the glorious shine of everlasting love left behind. Sweet fragrance of memories clinging to beautiful glossy hope.
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