You Ask Me How I Make It

I can't adequately put into words the feelings this past year has yielded; living in the agonizing pain of the loss of a child. It truly felt as if we were living in an alternate universe, perhaps in someone else's life. The reality of it all was slapping us right in the face, but we were so numb it felt like a dream. I ate to sustain myself, but never out of hunger. I woke to care for myself and family, but always with deep dread of the day. I looked for Briggs, both forgetting he was no longer present, and remembering I'd never see him again. Whole days and occurrences are still absent from my mind. I wrote my thoughts to survive, to remember, to feel and release feelings. I ran full speed ahead with no clue where I was going. I begged God to take my life, but also to spare it. I pleaded for His presence and questioned His seeming absence. I pressed on in faith while wondering if faith had failed me. Nightmares and flashbacks from that wretched day kept me far from sleep, yet I wanted nothing more than eternal slumber. I dreaded facing the smiling young mothers of my church, Sunday after Sunday, but wanted to be nowhere else. I desired comfort and longed for peace, but felt it was never within my grasp, whether by choice or their absence, I'm still unsure. I blamed myself but wanted nothing more than to blame someone else. They say fight or flight is the natural human response to trauma, but it seems both offer an escape, and I assure you, there isn't one. My only reprieve, my only help or consolation, was Jesus. I can't tell you how I made it through the past year with my mind and heart in tact, except by the absolute grace of God. I begged Him not to let me go, and He held on as a father would a dangling child. I owe Him everything, yet offer Him nothing but myself. The same hands that welcomed my two year old son into Heaven, are now the ones carrying me in his absence. You ask me how I make it, how I stay so strong and faithful, and the answer is quite simple. It's God. God is and has always been my answer.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words; these pictures were taken one year apart.