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Tuesday, June 17, 2014

 Today is an anniversary. How do you mark the anniversary of the worse day of your life?
  I suppose that's not entirely true. It was more like the first day of many really bad days. For months after that day, my heart physically ached in my chest. I guess that's where that saying comes from. I felt like I couldn't breath. I constantly found myself ducking outside, or under a fan, to catch my breath. If I wasn't crying, when I looked at Jon, I would see he was crying, and it would start again. I cried until my eyes hurt, and I thought there could be no tears left to cry,  and then I cried again.
 It's better now. Most days, I walk through life with the sadness, like a black dog nipping at my heels. He's a constant companion, pleading for my attention, but I manage to stay one step ahead. Then, this morning he caught me sleeping, made his way into my dreams, and when I awoke, there he was,
sitting fully on my chest, breaking my heart. Then the darkness.
 In my despair, I remind myself, God is still listening. On the cross, Christ's heart was filled with a mother's grief, for every child lost across time. He made a way for their reunion. This sadness is my Babylon, my exile from which I have already been delivered.
 I saw this little flower on my walk this morning, and, silly as it may sound, I felt like God put it there to remind me, He loves me, and I'm going to be OK.

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A wife, mother, and spoiler of small dogs, I grew up in a small West Texas town, with my eyes full of sand, and my heart full of joy.


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