In the few days between learning that Noah had died and giving birth to his lifeless body, I awakened throughout the night, unable to sleep, knowing that my child had passed away in my womb. During those nights, God filled my mind with Scriptures and songs. And I kept hearing that phrase, “Do not be offended by me.”
I didn’t know that we’d be inside for days on end while it rained, and snowed, and it felt like Spring itself would only tease us, but never actually come.
And the days would all bleed into eachother, and so would we.
I didn’t know just how desperately I would need this one thing:
It’s a Hallmark-y sounding kind of word. At least, it was. To me.
But now hope is something else.
Something more. Something alive.
Something like these tucked-in tulips. Withdrawn and inward. But quietly getting ready to bloom.
Separate, yet together.
My hands tremble as I write these words. Because I don’t know what it will mean in my life. I…
The candle flickered in the dark as I sat at on the bathroom floor, crying. I leaned against the…
I still remember when I saw it. The blue dust that burst out of the sealed container, and fell on…