“‘…maybe you don’t want to change the story, because you don’t know what a different ending holds…’ There’s a reason I am not writing the story and God is. He knows how it all works out, where it all leads, and what it all means. I don’t.”
Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

“…for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance,  I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.”
Philippians 4:11b-12

I seem to be quite a griever. A connoisseur of sorts. I steal the words of a friend when I say that I ‘feel things deeply.’ Stolen words, but true words. Even recreationally. I’ve read books and watched movies and reveled in the sorrow of the scenes and wondered at the sobs elicited in myself. Catharsis is how I once described it. Cathartic to feel powerfully and let free that powerful emotion.

This week in my world a beautiful life ended suddenly and unexpected. I did not know him well but I will always remember his friendly smile. He was a brother in my church family. A husband. A father. I feel the strong ripple effects of a family in shock and sorrow. And my thoughts are filled with my own what-ifs and worries. My heart is filled with my own fear of losing. My eyes are filled with tears. And I wonder… what this story holds. I wonder what is “the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need?”

When upon life’s billows you are tempest tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done. 

I’m searching. I’m learning. But at times, I find I am so afraid.

Yesterday’s gifts:
Heartbreak reminding me how precious is life and the lives around me.
Beginning a journey of counting “One Thousand Gifts.”
A hand to hold in bed at night as I cry.
My husband praying over us before we fall asleep.

And today’s:
Sleeping in all morning.
Sharing laughter over the phone with my sister.
A husband who cares so greatly that I should be taken care of and find love again should his eyes close before mine.
Laughter with my lover during a conversation that ought to be difficult.
Mama and Dada together tucking baby boy into bed. And that this is our normal.
A sweet toddler voice overcoming Mama’s and Dada’s as he pieces together memorized words and notes for bedtime prayers, Silent Night, and Gloria.
What-if worries. Because that means they haven’t happened.