In January of 2017, all the hopes and dreams I once had for my life suddenly vanished with the untimely drowning of my first true love, my then 31 year old husband. In an instant, I found myself shocked, shaking, and soaking wet on the shore of a small lake, as I held my seven small, crying, now fatherless children in my arms.
Suddenly, God thrust my children and me into a new life we never could have imagined; one that felt like a mere heap of ashes, a still remnant of what once was. In some ways, the old me died that day. In the wake of such tragedy, a new me is being created by God as He carries me through difficult fires of necessary refinement.
The darkness of my sorrow has often felt like a torturous nightmare. Even so, God has given me a passion to journal about the realities of my weak, raw, and often messy looking grief. He is teaching me many light-filled lessons in the shadows of my unexpected loss, the greatest of which is this; He is faithful, even when I am not.
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