Bittersweet *  adj.   1  sweet with a bitter aftertaste.    2  arousing pleasure tinged with sadness or pain


Last week I gave a eulogy at the memorial service of Elaine Davis—my dear friend, prayer partner, and role model, whose story I told in an earlier blog (Counting her Stitches, Counting her Blessings, Archives).  It was bittersweet.  I was happy for her because her suffering was over and she is now face to face with her Savior.  But for me and so many others who loved her, her home-going was tinged with sadness.

“April,” wrote the poet, T.S. Eliot, “is the cruelest month…”

And for me it is always the month filled with bittersweet memories . . .

It would have been my mother’s birthday, had she lived.

It would have been the wedding anniversary of my sweet, deceased parents.

It would have been the birthday of my baby sister who died of pneumonia five weeks after her birth.

And when I observe my own birthday this month (quietly, I hope), it will be a reminder of my own mortality.


As we observe Holy Week, we remember the bittersweet death of Jesus Christ, the cruelest and most undeserved death in all of history.  But fortunately for us, it is sweet, indeed, because it made possible the most undeserved redemption in all of history.

“ . . . to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God . . .”      John 1:12   (NIV)





Happy Resurrection Day!