I took this book off the shelf this week.

I put it on the back of the toilet seat to open when I had a quiet moment while I lock myself in the bathroom.

Then I opened the book to this page:

These last few weeks I have been in a dark tomb of anger, fatigue, sadness and again wondering how to live this new life in the light without my mom. I have many words tumbling in my head, most not rated G. I am thinking thoughts I have never thought and experiencing deep emotions on both ends of the spectrum.

I feel sadness that knocks me over as I watch mothers with their mothers. I cannot move but just stare when I see the grandmas picking up their grandchildren, filled with joy, from preschool. I want my mom by my side on my bike. I desire her steady presence and insight into my life.

I weep.

I don’t know what the next moment will bring, but my heart is full of gratitude for the gift of Beth Moore, books, my ability to read and God weaving everything together.

Holding on.

Tight.

Sitting in my grief.

Damn, it’s hard.

Knowing this will not overcome me.

Trusting.

Being grateful for the life I have.

In Christ alone.