I shared my story this year with a group of women, the short version. And after I finish, I hear them say how strong they think I am. I think to myself, "Who, me, strong? No way." I am so weak. All I really want to do is curl up and quit. All I wanted to do on 'that' day, the day she died, was run away and be alone, forever. I question, I complain, I shout "no fair!" into the wind as if it will make a difference. I lash out in my pain and anger and I hurt other people, sometimes on purpose. I busy myself so I don't have to think or feel. To me, that does not match up with the image of a strong person. It isn't. I am not strong, not on my own.
One thing I have learned is to turn to the Lord and give it to Him. He has been faithful and has never forsaken. He has turned my weeping into joy. He has given me strength to put one foot in front of another and walk through the past eleven years. He picks me up when I have failed and helps me begin again. That is where I know I am strong, I am strong because of Him.
On this day, the day after and eleven years later, I turn to Him again and stop for a moment to feel and to think and to cry and to remember and He says come to me and I will give you rest.Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:10
In the words of one of my new favorite songs "Earth has no sorrow that heaven can't heal". One day, every tear will be wiped away and there will be nothing but praises for our Lord Jesus. All will be perfect, as it should have been.
I miss you baby girl, every day. Some day, soon, I will hold you again!
|March 28, 2004|