For I know the thoughts I think towards you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not evil, to give you a future and a hope.
I've been making frequent visits to my parent's home. The only reason I can think to explain my visits is because it just feels right, safe, and the food is an added bonus.
Not too long ago, I received an email from a name I have tried avoiding for years, but often wondered about. The email was full of "Congratulations" and "I'm so proud of you" and "There's so much I want to talk to you about".
I responded back the best way I knew how; with a "Thank you" followed by an encouraging message.
A few weeks, or months, went by (I can't remember) and there was no reply. I can't even believe I was looking for one, but that's another story. I decided to reach out one last time, and surprisingly, it started a conversation that lasted for some time.
It's been so long since I last wrote to you.
It's different now; I love you, yes, but I feel that I don't have to write to you in order to feel so close.
I like it and hate it at the same time.
So much has happened.
I’ve been doing a lot of self reflection lately.
Leisure time has been spent daydreaming. It feels good to be free from grief's grasp; to daydream innocently and safely without grief tampering with my imaginations.
I found myself stuck
or comfortable rather
in a meadow that I've become familiar with. I like it here.
I love you sweetheart.
There are so many things I remember vividly about the day you were delivered. But that wasn't enough for me.
I was so angry with God and honestly I had nothing nice to say to Him, so I said nothing.
Until that Sunday when enough was enough and I begged God let me see you.
And He did.
He showed me my son.
I love you sweetheart.
I look at the calendar and it's hard to imagine that this time last year, you were with me. A year is quickly approaching.
The thought is heart wrecking.
I've always loved butterflies; among other things.
They're the perfect representation of you.
And now me.
There's something so majestic and powerful and beautiful and dangerous about a mountain. All at once. They're so large and gentle on the eyes from a distance. The terrain is constantly changing; paths bend and straighten; widen and narrow; rocky and smooth. There are parts that contain valleys that may stretch miles long and parts that have snowy dark areas.
Cold and lonely.
Sometimes, I get lost; only hit by a ray of sunlight on the side of my cheek as a guide back to my path. Sometimes there is no light. Other times the light is very dim and I can't quite find it.
But recently, I've been finding my way.
And I've had a lot of help from other travelers.
Christian. Mother. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Teacher.
Most of All,
Powerful. Fearless. Saved.
Look for new letters to publish every Tuesday.
Grab My Button
You're Not Alone
"And the sweet baby boy who was loved and cared for his whole life
was just as the nurse whispered...
"Because when you know God, hurt doesn't always mean broken and saying goodbye isn't always permanent."
-After Saying Good-bye: 364 Sunsets Later
"I never knew how deeply I can love, how compassionate and patient I am. Grief does that. Or maybe it's love." -Excerpt from Identity
"The eyes, on the surface, still as soft as the last day we met. And the nose was one I'm reminded of every time I lay eyes on the few pictures of my son." -Walking in Forgiveness: The Story of a Sucker for Sorry