One Month Ago Today...

Today marks one month since that fateful day when our lives were forever changed. One month, and still I long for one more day—one more day to pray with you, to talk with you, to hold your hand, to hold you close, to love you completely. However, one more day was not to be, and I must hold onto the memories of the days we were given.

I have learned so much about myself during this time and about God and grief. I have learned what it is to truly mourn. I understand what it is to lament, to groan, and to feel completely hopeless. Yet, at the same time I have gained a clearer view of God’s grace and compassion. I have felt His Spirit with me every second of every day since the horrific moment you were ripped from our lives. I have learned that I am stronger than I ever thought I could be without you—evidence of God’s existence. My sanity would have left me that day without supernatural intervention. Most of all, I have learned how desperately you were loved—by me, our children, family, friends, and co-workers. You were even more amazing than I realized.

I have learned, too, that our children are remarkable. We did well. All of those late night conversations full of anxiety concerning their futures and all of those prayers for their spiritual and physical growth have come to fruition.  They have drawn closer to their Heavenly Father and have relied upon His power. They are resilient and faithful. I know you must be so proud gazing upon them from your new home. They miss you tremendously! But in time, they will learn to live life bearing the void that your absence has created. They will build upon the foundation we laid together and it will never be shaken.

I love you! I feel as if I have been walking through a fog since the day you died. I still use present tense verbs when referring to you. I still reach for your hand before falling asleep. I miss everything about you! There are moments when I can almost see a light flickering through the haze, moments where a glimmer of hope lies on the horizon. But those moments are fleeting and far too few to be of lasting comfort. In time, they will become more frequent. In time, God will give me new dreams to replace the ones which were shattered with your life. Until then, I will take it one moment at a time—occasionally, one breath at a time. And I will continue to rely on our wonderful God to carry me through until the journey leads me back to you.