God's grace comes in strange and unexpected ways. My retreat director gave me some Scripture texts to pray with each day. On Sunday it was the one from Luke about the paralyzed man who got cured when his friends lowered him through the roof.
So the next day I told him that I got a big grace praying with the passage about the paralyzed man. He looked a little puzzled and said, "The paralyzed man? I gave you the Sermon on the Plain." It turned out that the text was Luke 6:17 ff., and when I opened my Bible I just looked at the reference on the top that said Luke 6. I didn't notice that chapter 6 started at the very bottom, so I was actually in chapter 5:17. But as he said, with God there are no mistakes.
Actually, that reading was so great coming so soon after the death of my mother. Somehow there's this part of me that still feels like a little kid who wants her mother to take care of her. Yes, I know as an adult that's not appropriate and not possible. Yet feelings don't bother about what they're supposed to do. The finality of death came crashing down and put an end to all that. Grieving is not just about the person who died, but more, for the living left behind. Grieving for the things left unsaid, undone, for the ways in which the relationship could have been better. It left me feeling paralyzed in a way, like the helpless man who couldn't help himself. But Jesus said to him, "Get up and walk!" And grace broke the bonds of paralysis. It still breaks those bonds, no matter what form they take.