Through this very tumultuous month, I have come in contact with so many people who have experienced incredible hurt.
People who are on the other side of that hurt and people who are right in the middle of it.
Each of these people who shared have a common thread. The gut-wrenching loss of stability or normalcy.
Tragedy has a way of doing that to a person.
When this motion-sick girl rides a roller coaster (which is almost never) I literally have a white knuckle grip on the bar in front of me or the person beside me.
The unknown of the ride is daunting. And the fear seems to rise up in my chest.
So I hold on. With brute strength. Still scared out of my mind. Still angry at the person who talked me into riding.
Writing has always been therapeutic for me. But this time, writing is just hard. I don't want to make my grief public. I don't have any advice to give or happy words to hang on your wall.
I just know that I have to write out my grief. For someone out there. It may not be you. But it might be your friend or your friend's, friend's, friend.
People are hurting all around me and I get it. I put on the happy face at work. I give the mediocre answers to "How are you?" just like you do. But I also cry in my car before I go inside. Or sit in my little girl's bedroom for an hour in insurmountable pain. Unable to get up. Feeling lost inside your own skin.
When everyone else has moved on, I know that you can't. And won't. It's not about moving on. It's just about moving.
Finding your purpose again during such uncertainty. Not letting your mind wander into guilt as mine often does.
The only way I know to do any of that is to have a white knuckle grip on the arm of my Jesus. Even when I feel so far away from Him, I know that He is right there, waiting for my white knuckles to wrap tightly around His arm.
So that someday my clenched fists can turn to interlocked fingers. Trusting that He is fighting for me, for my husband, for my baby girl. Knowing He does His best work in the lowest of places. He hasn't left you behind.
He can move into the dark places. Those images that keep you up at night. He can take what is empty and fill it.
Whatever you are stuck in the middle of, remind yourself that God always lifts us up, just not in our timing. He hears your cries and accounts for each one.
"God can be trusted even when He can't be tracked." -Dr. James Dobson
Thank you for praying for us and our baby girl. We need each and every one. They comfort us in the darkest of moments in the hidden places. We cannot thank you enough!
Love and Laughter,