I will never leave you...

So, we're coming up on a year since that dreadful day. A year of lonely days, sad nights, teary phone calls and aching hearts for a daddy who's not here. We have come SO far and my children have been such darlings - and so strong. It's moments like this one I'm about to tell, though, that kill me, and make me realize that a father who's gone is not a father who has no impact... rather, he has more impact than even he realizes.

So, we are at the grocery store. Same store we go to EVERY time we shop. My children come 90% of the time - like I could actually grocery shop without children??? - and they know the store better than I do. I'm going up and down the aisles, my children with me and stalling some of the time to look at all the things I haven't put in my cart...
Before I see her, I hear her.
This timid little cry... I turn and my daughter isn't behind me. I back up and peek down the last aisle and as she sees me, the timid little cry turns into a full on weep. But that's not what gets me. It's her face. This look of panic - fear laced, trembling, absolutely terrified look of panic amid the tears falling down her precious face.
I rush to her side... fall on the floor of the store and pull her into my lap and rock... kissing her face, wiping her tears... cradling her, saying over and over, "I will NEVER, ever leave you! I would never leave this store without you. I would NOT leave until I had you by my side. I will never ever ever leave you... I couldn't. I will NEVER leave you."
oh my heart.
She says she knows... "I know mama, I know." But the fear... and I was out of sight mere seconds.
oh my heart.

She moves on... she's with me now and she is safe again. She wants granola bars... sure.

I'm still in that moment. Later that night while my babies sleep peacefully, I lay in bed tossing. I am standing alone... fear laced, trembling, absolutely terrified and panic-stricken... and I can't hear that voice...
"I will never leave you, or forsake you."

I know the words... but my heart can't find them. Because, I am alone.

Fernando Ortega - Give me Jesus...

In the morning when I rise, in the morning when I rise, in the morning when I rise
Give me Jesus...
Give me Jesus, give me Jesus
You can have all this world, but give me Jesus.

And when I am alone, oh when I am alone, and when I am alone,
Give me Jesus...

Give me Jesus, give me Jesus
you can have all this world, but give me Jesus.
--

the hope...

It's dark.
Somehow, in the dark, I find it hard to remember a time when it wasn't black like this... a time when I could see, when things were different.
But here... now... it's just so dark.
I'm enclosed somewhere, swaddled - like in a tomb. Only not a tomb.
It's quiet.
I don't hear His voice, lately. I just hear silence.
Looking back at this time, I am sure I will be able to see the moments where He truly was there, but here, in this moment, it's quiet.
In this place, I'm still. I'm not struggling to free myself - somehow in this place of quiet darkness I feel safe.
I don't want to open my eyes.
I don't want to look at myself.
I feel alone.
His heart cries for me.
He is watching me in these moments... desperate to reach out but aware that it is necessary for me to reach out to Him.
Him, who is standing a breath away.
He sees what I don't... He sees past the dark, past the quiet. He sees beyond this...
He knows I will emerge from this - stronger, more beautiful, more in Him - I can't see that.
He can.
I'm not ready.
My heart is holding on to the smallest thread of hope possible. It's a broken heart... a heart longing for something that doesn't exist any more and maybe didn't ever exist.
But there's still hope.
Maybe not for everything I pray for... everything I long for...
But there's still hope.
Maybe life as I know it won't ever be again.
But maybe I didn't really know LIFE.
So, I sit.
In darkness.
In the quiet.
As painfully alone as I feel, I am not alone.
This thread of hope... the thread that holds my broken heart together, the thread that brings me one step closer to trust, love and life...

HE is the hope.