Grief Behind Closed Doors
Ally snapped this picture of us last night before bed. I desperately needed this hug, to be held. Just when it feels we've reached our breaking point, the Lord gives us a reprieve, even in the simple form of a warm embrace.
Nobody sees the grief behind closed doors. The ugly cries, the piercing silence, the sleepless nights. The glances into an unused room, the dining table collecting dust, the block no one can bare to move from under the cabinet.
A pair of Briggs socks still still on Josh's dresser. His Spider-Man towel still hangs on the hook in the bathroom, I smell it in hopes of remembering the sweet scent of his baby wash. His final few snacks still sit in the pantry.
Our lives will never be the same. We hope for better days, but ultimately long for Heaven.
We're thankful for every ounce of mercy the Lord has given us, the grace He's bestowed, and the hedge He's placed around us. We aren't naive to the difficulties that still lie head, but we're thankful for the many moments like this. Moments of embrace, solitude and love.
Please continue to pray for us, our marriage, and our daughter. Specifically pray for strength, comfort, any ounce of understanding, and most importantly, peace.
“For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.”
Hebrews 4:15-16
