The Story of Me, Part III

The dark, mournful, mostly unknown story of me, continued.

Keep reading. It gets happier!

story of me page 2

I found people who would sit and listen. People who could discern when they needed to speak and offer wisdom or verses or song lyrics, and when they just needed to hug me and offer tissues.

I am so thankful for them! I was given space to be. I was given time and space to be in this season and take life one day at a time. I didn’t want to wallow — spending more time than necessary in the grieving stage, But nor did I want to rush through, performing a patch job on my heart! Grieving times aren’t specified and they aren’t fast forward-able. It took daily work on my part to pray and read and talk and cry and repeat and repeat and repeat!

Almost everyday for the whole year, I listened to a song by Cool Hand Luke called One Time. The lyrics read:

There are mountains
towering ahead.
He says to me “These are mine.
Hold my hand, you’ll be fine”

I could see for miles.
He showed me that the mountain I’m climbing,
is not a mountain at all,
but a gentle slope leading home.

“The mountains are mine”

It was God speaking to me through these lyrics and telling me that, yes, it would be work. There would be climbing, but that the climbing would be worth it.

So I began the journey.

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