Sacred

Today has not been an easy day. The last week or so my grief reached a familiar place, one I've been too before...or been near...and it's hard to be visiting here again.

Somehow, this time I feel more desolate. It is a far more difficult struggle...or maybe the difficulty hasn't changed, I am just growing accustomed to the better days...so the harder days seem that much more pronounced?

It is almost more difficult to admit this time through. I feel almost as if I am failing at something? I don't want to let anyone down. I want to still be standing in the strength of Jesus. Yet today? Today it is all I can do to sit here at His feet and weep.

I want to throw a mighty fit and beg God for a do-over. For another moment with my baby. Beg Him to let me wake-up from this. That it would all be a dream. That whatever God has taught me or shown me would have been impressed on me and now I get to keep my girl...

And even in this moment, here as I type, and admit the immaturity and ugliness, and see the parts of my heart I have been trying to hold back from God this week...even now He reaches down to comfort me and caress my tear streaked cheeks with his own hand. With His own tears He comforts me.

Every time I want to tell Him this isn't fair or ask Him why I see a glimmer of His plan...just a glimmer, as if through the fog, but I see He has not abandoned me and this was not something He allowed out of callous disregard...

I am so like one of my Children, anxious for "the end" not wanting to endure the lesson or wait out the plan.