To iron or to walk?

Tough decision.

Invariably the latter is elected and, with little-one satisfactorily pram-bound, we stride out the drive, up the street; the usual circuit.

My circuit includes a bush reserve, which I love, and at this time of year with every footfall crunching on dry grass and leaves, butterflies spring into the air so that the atmosphere is a-flutter with orange and insect dust.

Perhaps you will think it an abomination, but I'm not one for plugging my earholes with music while walking. I prefer listening to the subtle overtures of nature and allowing my thoughts space to run away.

A dangerous sport.

Just last week I was marching through this same reserve when, in my imagination, an enormous snake (it must have been at least three metres) reared ahead of me and sunk its venom into my leg.

I managed to wring its neck before dropping to the ground beside the pram to slow my breathing and the effect of the poison now coursing through my blood stream.

First I called for an ambulance, then a friend down the road to come grab the bub, then hubby to meet me at the hospital.

You see just how dangerous it is not to take an iPod on your walks?

The mind can be so cruel and often it's the situations we most dread that tug at the imagination. What if my husband or wife, my partner or friend, my mother or father, my child what if they died today?

Isn't it what we fear most?

The torment of grief through the loss of a loved one is something we cannot prepare for. Or is that really true?

In the past few months I have watched as friends and friends friends have lost their beloveds.

A newborn baby, a 24-year-old daughter and just last week the sad story of the King family who first said goodbye to their 10-year-old son who was joined unexpectedly four months later by his father who died of a heart attack on Australia Day.

Words are suddenly inadequate.

But in all these heartbreaks I have been struck by the composure, the peace and the hope evident in the families. They have something in common, you see: a relationship with their Creator.

``The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit,'' Psalm 34:18 says, and ``weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning,'' Psalm 30:5 reads.

These are some of the promises our grieving families can hold to, because death to those with a faith in God is simply a gateway to eternity.

Unfortunately there are no Bible verses to say there will be no hurt, no tears, no anger. But there is comfort that Gods' plan is perfect and that this full-stop is not forever.

John 3:16 puts it plainly, ``For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.''

That there is the clincher, the deal breaker. No wonder the families mentioned are able to deal with their grief from a different plane. Their separation is temporary.

Should I ever meet with such unspeakable grief, I only hope my faith would be so strong.