across the gurney in the ER with her hands grasping fragments of her broken heart as shattered shards of glass all across the room.
glass bowl full
virus, throwing up constantly.....then less....but nauseated and must find a way to let it go
Packing a 10 pound bag of rocks for the remainder of my days....shifting it constantly....so I don't ever over tax one particular part of my body
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Tonight, I look back at my path since the day that Megan passed through that boundary of darkness into bright light. There are other significant days in my life. Many more. But, each of those is hard to see because I moved to a different path on that day.
I've so many word pictures, examples, and analogies to help someone have a wee bit of insight into the grieving parent's heart. Putting those into print would be of aid to some other poor soul so perhaps one day soon I will do that.
For now, let me be grateful for the moments of sanity which I've been granted in my days. I could not imagine my ever having the strength to grasp sanity. That is fair. I don't think I did grasp it. I believe my Father grasped it. He grasps me firmly by the hand. He carries me. He holds me. He is my sanity. Thank you, Father.
As I write this, my eyes want to close and my head to bow. I'd rather sleep than face this. My brain still reminds me of a gum ball machine's globe filled with big gum balls. And someone comes through and drops in gravel. Then, sand. And, finally, water. There is no room left for cognition of pain and survival. But, I have to try. And, I need to let the extra junk in my brain fall away as time will allow.
I've so many word pictures, examples, and analogies to help someone have a wee bit of insight into the grieving parent's heart. Putting those into print would be of aid to some other poor soul so perhaps one day soon I will do that.
For now, let me be grateful for the moments of sanity which I've been granted in my days. I could not imagine my ever having the strength to grasp sanity. That is fair. I don't think I did grasp it. I believe my Father grasped it. He grasps me firmly by the hand. He carries me. He holds me. He is my sanity. Thank you, Father.
As I write this, my eyes want to close and my head to bow. I'd rather sleep than face this. My brain still reminds me of a gum ball machine's globe filled with big gum balls. And someone comes through and drops in gravel. Then, sand. And, finally, water. There is no room left for cognition of pain and survival. But, I have to try. And, I need to let the extra junk in my brain fall away as time will allow.
Heaven tones....
God gave me songs for a season in my life...They blessed others. And I still hear that people listen to them.
I believe that the ultimate reason was for me to comfort myself. I need to sing I have a God and Jesus is Still My Shepherd. Hold Me.
My song has been quiet for the past years of pain. If He wills, I'm open to write the words. And, it will be Him because my brain can't open to think of any. It will be heart music. And, I believe some heaven tones....
I believe that the ultimate reason was for me to comfort myself. I need to sing I have a God and Jesus is Still My Shepherd. Hold Me.
My song has been quiet for the past years of pain. If He wills, I'm open to write the words. And, it will be Him because my brain can't open to think of any. It will be heart music. And, I believe some heaven tones....
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