Blah! My brain is on strike. I can't think up a creative building project or even get the gumption to go clean out another closet, yet alone imagine what might sound good to pull out of the freezer to cook for supper or what I should wear. I am in black and white mode. I try to spend time in scripture and pondering the sweet truths and promises, but mostly my eyes focus on some far away place and I am in a daze. There is a deep strength and hope in my Savior that He knows exactly what He's doing that carries me through the day. But the day that I mostly think about is the Day that God will make all things right again.
I know I do not walk this journey alone. God is leading me by the hand. But I also know that there are four children and a husband walking it as well. The pain of watching your husband cry over his son is often times harder than crying yourself. The comfort of sharing new found verses and revelations and dreams with your daughter makes the way a little easier. Young children who still believe in happily ever after and want you to believe, too, bring me out of the daze for a bit. And then come the bills and the insurance claims and the old t-shirts in the hamper to make you realize that even through the fog life must go on. I find myself thanking God for this foggy stage of grief that the brain might have a chance to catch up to what the soul already knows. I find myself praising God when the fog does clear for a bit and just holding on by my fingertips until it lifts again. He knows the paths He has layed out for me and I will gladly walk them because He has asked me to; missing my son and all, because it is with my Savior that I walk until I see him again.
