night does not last forever

Healing is a process.

This morning I was excited,

I made it back to Sunday School for the first time in a few weeks!

Saw Bob putting Christmas cards outside of our classroom.

Glanced on my way past to make sure I didn't have any

and saw this:

It wasn't Christmas cards.

It was our 2014 giving record.

The tears trickled.

Took the back way to the Life Center, 

received hugs from friends,

shed a few more silent tears,

and proceeded to "our family table".

Sat down and read the bulletin.

The tear off portion was a poem about pain and healing.

The inside "blurb" was about pain and healing.

The sermon title had to do with pain and healing.

I am in that process.

Even with the looming threat of crying

I was determined to stay and hear the message.

I made a trip to the bathroom before the service started.

Found tears falling in spite of my desire to keep them in check.

A friend came to check on me.

The flood gates opened and she held me.

I decided not to cause a scene,

and considered hiding out in the bathroom until service ended.

Bre came to check on me and had my things so I went home.

I know God is working.
I know God does not make mistakes.
If I didn't have those assurances I would be without hope.

But still, I hurt. The shock is wearing off more.
The wound is deep, my heart is raw.
I cried as I drove. 
I remembered as I drove. 
I prayed as I drove.

I sat in the drive and cried.

I fumbled with opening the door 

and sobbed as I walked down the hall.

I grabbed the Kleenex box on my way to the couch

where I sat and screamed loudly, wailed and moaned

and repeated the process, thankful I was alone.

I threw up, went to the bathroom to clean up,

returned to the couch and ugly cried some more.

All the while knowing without a doubt 
and being very aware that

God sees.

God cares.

God loves me.

This suffering, this anguish, thankfully is not 24/7.

And the anger, the mental fog, the frustration,
the weariness that reaches clear down into my bones-
it is all simply part of the grieving process.
I know that night does not last forever,
and God continues to send encouragement and light 
to keep my life beautifully balanced.

I never know who the vessel will be,
friend, stranger or family,
or what form it will take:
a prayer, a hug, a smile,
a quiet visit, 
a shared scripture, devotional thought or song,
a card, text or message,
time (in my home or yours), 
holding my hand as we pray or walk,
a gentle kiss on the forehead,
shared giggles, laughter or tears,
you being comfortable with my silence,
a whispered "I love you",
"I am thinking about you", 
"Do you need anything?"

Each of these is a priceless gift.

"A friend loves at all times,

and a brother is born for adversity."
Proverbs 17:17

Thank you "friends and brothers"...