I sit looking out the sliding glass doors from our living room to the deck and the woods beyond. The rising sun is streaming through the tops of the trees and it is so peaceful. I can almost imagine that everything is just the way it is supposed to be.
It is not.
A part of me is missing.
And try as I might…I cannot get past it.
I pray daily, often repeatedly throughout the day, for the peace that passes all understanding. It does not come.
Maybe it is not supposed to come. Maybe I am not supposed to feel peaceful about missing her. Maybe then I would become complacent.
Oh, I know that she belongs to Him. I know that He not only has a plan…His plan is happening as I type this.
I cannot help the “what ifs?” “What if we had done this instead of that?” “What if we totally shut her down and then she does this?”
“What if we lose her for good?”
Our Pastor has “lost” his daughter. She has shut them out of her life for over three years now. No contact. No calls. Just silence.
I do not know how he and his wife bear it.
I miss My Girl. Every minute of every day.
I am thankful, please do not get me wrong, that she is still on this Earth and that because of that there is Hope. We have friends who have lost their children through illness, suicide, accidents.
Some days, though, it is just hard to keep going. Hard pretending that all is right in our world. Impossible to stop the ache in my chest and the tears that flow unchecked. Unstoppable.
I think I will be spending some extra time in my grandmother’s chair this morning, by the doors leading to the deck. Pretending that everything is as it should be.