Today I stood alone in my empty home and I allowed the silence to surround me.
I stood in the empty halls of the house that I forced to become a home after my home died and I let the silence speak to me. All the while begging it to be gentle...
Please don't ask more of me than I can give.
Please do not remind me to be strong.
Please do not force me to be brave.
Sometimes I feel like I am one breath away from giving up. One breath away from being asked to take on too much. One breath away from failing at everything that this life has demanded of me.
I was never afraid of being alone before John died. I knew that, no matter what happened in our world, we would always have each other. Unfortunately, that sacred unity was destroyed on a small, two lane back road in Virginia...and the security I believed I had in life was destroyed along with it.
Guys, I'm not really all that brave. I'm terrified. I'm terrified so much the time.
I'm scared that I'm just going to screw this all up. I'm afraid that I won't be able to live up to the standards or expectations that everyone has for me.
I'm terrified that I will fail so epically that I will no longer have any support at all. That I will make everyone so angry or hurt them just too much that they will no longer stay by my side.
I know, logically, that I won't be left alone by those who love me. But logic also told me that I wouldn't become a widow at the age of 32. So...logic is not always correct.
Don't you see? Worst case scenarios are ingrained in my past...and I am in a constant state of forcing myself not to prepare for them in my future.
It's exhausting...to trust that God will always leave me with a future and a hope.
Because it means that I must trust that even the heartbreaking things in this life can be worked together for my good.
It's painful...to let go of all that I think I can control and to allow God to move in whatever way He wishes.
Because it means that I cannot create my future, nor run from my past.
It's vulnerable...to ask someone else for help when I'm terrified of needing someone again.
Because it means I can be broken again.
It is incredibly shocking to me that God asked me to care for and love a little girl. Because, if I'm being honest, I wouldn't have been so certain that I could love unconditionally again.
I thought maybe...maybe grief was just too high of a cost for love. And maybe I couldn't heal that part of me again...not this time...not all by myself.
But, God so often asks more of us than we are able to give, doesn't He?
He asked me to wake up and to keep living.
He asked me to find joy again...to laugh again.
He asked me to try again...to love again.
He asked me to adopt a little girl who needed a mom.
He asked me to do hard things.
He whispered to me in the silence.
He spoke to me in the empty halls of my house.
He told me to listen...to try...and He promised that He would do great and wonderful things.
Logic told me that I shouldn't believe Him...that I couldn't do it...but as I said before...logic isn't always correct.
My life is a tapestry of great and wonderful things...
This is the wonder of the Gospel...that great and wonderful things can come out of such tragedy.
The Gospel changes everything...if you just have the courage to listen...and to live.
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