It's been almost a year. A year since we lost our son. Since the world spun out of control. A phone call that changed everything. Time stood still and then the whirlwind in my mind began.
Grace came and covered us. His presence held us together. A million shattered pieces left on the floor that a heavenly Father would slowly put back together bit by bit and then He would do it all over again every day for months. Pick up the pieces and stitch them together creating a new me, a new us.
We stood side by side with family and friends and soldiered on. Everyday memories searched for to hold unto. The pain that was unbearable, and that I didn't think I could survive, I have. I am surviving.
It has been a grueling year. I have ended up sick. Turns out eventually something more was wrong than just the sorrow of losing my son. There is a physical response to an emotional trauma. I knew this yet was somehow surprised. God's grace is still there.
I have spent a year trying to finish grief. I am not finished. I can't finish anything. I can't seem to finish a thought, finish a book, finish a conversation, finish the dishes, finish writing, finish anything. I realize now I will never finish grief, it will change but there is no deadline for finishing it. Until I am reunited with my boy, it will always be there.
I used to wake up crying every morning. I don't anymore, maybe once in a few weeks but not every day. I used to feel guilty for laughing, I dont' anymore. Joy was quick to come and be my strength but it is different now. Joy is always shadowed with a sorrow that few can understand.
Everyday I battle fear, everyday I press into God because in my humanity it is impossible to move forward. I am stronger than ever and yet broken. I lean into the pain, refusing to cower. Jesus always meets me there, has compassion for me....a bruised reed He shall not break(Isaiah 42:3).
I have been strong and I have been weak. I have been brave and I have hid. Jesus has been there the whole time, just there. No condemnation, just love in the deepest and darkest of places. He shines His light there and there is hope. There is always hope.
Am I finished, not with anything. However, I am moving even if only inch by inch. I am in motion and sometimes just sometimes I see the finish line. I get a glimpse of heaven and I am encouraged that this year has been strangely slow and yet exponentially fast and it is one year closer to our reunion with Justin.
I write for me and I write for others who know the pain I write about. I would write even if no one read because one day it may redeem this pain. Someday, someone will read it and find hope for thier circumstances.
So soldier on my friends and pray for us. Pray for those of us who have to walk this earth with treasure in heaven, always missing a piece of our hearts.
In Christ Amazing Love,
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