It's gray outside today. As if the world is wearing a shroud. And in someways it's appropriate. It used to be gray, dark and heavy in my heart. A hidden abyss of brokenness. For so very long. Breathing was painful and wetness never left my eyes. I thought that stabbing heartbeat might stop. Wished it would. But then the sunshine broke through. And gifts from heaven came. To convince me I was still loved. Not forgotten. Four little girl gifts to be exact. Wet kisses straight from heaven brought through lips that were new. And I got an inkling. A wild hope. Just the faintest scent of it. That a resurrection might be in progress. Slowly. One weeping step forward at a time. He has done it. He has wiped the tears from my eyes. Not Father Time. He has nothing to offer but bitterness. And reliving. And wishing. And regret. Time does not heal ...
I have never wanted to be a blogger until this morning (10/23/10). For some reason I awoke feeling the need to share this journey. My four year old daughter was killed in a tragic car accident on October 8th, 2010 when our car was struck by a teen on marijuana. This blog is a small window into the brokenness of my heart and perhaps... one day, the healing. Do not mistake this for theological discourse. Jesus, not our circumstances, equals perfect theology. Be warned, this is raw...