Small Miracles {rooted}

Something I read last week from Hope’s blog post has been rattling in my head for days. It’s about hope being more than a feeling. {Please be sure to check out her post here}

I guess we do feel hope but when your world is turned upside down and the feeling of hope turns into complete hopelessness… what then?

I guess it depends on where the hope is rooted.

I can remember it like yesterday waking up the day after she died.

Feeling jarred, not entirely belonging to this world anymore. I remember thinking ‘this is how every single morning is going to be…’

My stomach was in knots dreading the rest of my life without her.

I felt like a walking zombie. Going through the motions, and avoiding social interaction with people that weren’t close, close family and friends.

It felt like ultimate betrayal not being at the hospital, though she was no longer there.

But in all of that, I remember the peace of God. And while my heart was a puddle of guilt and bitter grief our home was surrounded by this heavenly peace that is beyond words to describe.

Hope is real.

That peace that surrounded us through the darkest time in my life gave me the purest hope that we would hold her again someday. It also assured me that her new home is not lacking by any measure.

Heaven felt closer.

Almost as if the angels carrying her were hovering close by. I promise I could almost feel her weight on my lap at times.

I don’t even know why I felt lead to share this bit of our journey today. Perhaps it is because I am lost for words trying to find the right words for my friend, as she watches her daughter… helplessly… losing hope. Sometimes I just need to retrace my steps back to the place where I did find hope.

Close to the heart of God.

:::

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