Three Years

The pain is present, but more like a remembered sensation that has left lingering aches.

I still sometimes reach for my phone to text him, forgetting for a moment that he is not here. And now, I smile a little at my mistake instead of cry.

10,000 Reasons still elicits one of two reactions. I either change the radio station or crank it up and sing.

I can talk about him without crying. Tell stories about him and laugh. Recall his advice and take it for my own.

I’ve grown so much in the past three years. More than I ever thought I could. It has hurt at times. Hurt beyond my imagination, beyond my strength to bear. Hurt until I went totally numb and no longer cared. Pain and exhaustion the default mode.

But the sun has broken through.

The clouds are shot through with burning, silvery golden, hard as nails beams of light. My storm has spent itself, and is gathering for a new and merry summer shower. The kind that makes even the soil glad. I can see buds everywhere. New shoots, tender and timid. Young growth, reaching skyward optimistically even while the roots have dug deep into the dark places and draw up hard nourishment. They will not be moved again.

There might even be a unicorn.

My soul is full.

The dark holds no fear for me any longer.

Sunshine is back.

Grace & Peace,


4 thoughts on “Three Years

Comments are closed.