December 20, 2012


Its FIVE DAYS to Christmas and am still in the OOOOFICE!!
I have literally reached point of mental stagnation, i can't think straight in the office setting when my mind is away on holiday in the Swiss Alps!!
I have been following articles on the elementary school shooting in the U.S. a week ago and the heavy debate on tougher gun laws:

I found this post that i would so love to share.

 There are things mommies aren't ever supposed to find.
They aren't supposed to find themselves in a firehouse frantically looking for their child.
They aren't supposed to find their child's name on a list of those who won't be coming home.
They aren't supposed to find a dress to wear to their child's funeral.
They aren't supposed to turn their calendar and find a date circled for the birthday party they were supposed to be planning next month. The one that won't be.
Or walk to the mailbox and find their child's dentist appointment reminder card. The receptionist forgot to pull that one out.
Or find a book they know their child would love. Only half way to the checkout counter they remember, their child is gone.
They aren't supposed to find these things.
They aren't supposed to find that grieving for a child is like navigating a path with chasms so wide their continued steps seem impossible. Terrifying. Hopeless.
I know these chasms. I watched my mom stare at them. I saw her wish she could fall in them and never have to take another painful step. I wept over everything she found reminding her my sister was gone.
The mommies that even right now are finding things no mommy should have to find.
I want my prayers to slip into those chasms and somehow fill them. I am asking God to show me. Make me aware of the specific things those mommies might find in the months to come.
When the black dresses are hanging in the closets. The media has packed up and gone home. The cards stop coming. The neighbors' lives go back to normal.
And in the quietness of her own grief that mommy finds something.
Something that breaks her heart all over again.
And in that space of pure grief, she feels horrifically alone. " ----------- By Lysa Terkeurst

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