God meets us. He is everlasting and true. Each day that passes takes us further away from the accident. But closer to Christ’s return.
This morning I again lean into the door frame of Elijah’s room. The pain still permeates the heart like a knife. I try to twist from the pain. I want to gently rub his sleeping cheek. Tickle his toes to get up. Tell him it’s time to get ready for school. I want to hear him groan and pull the covers over his face. I put some of his clothes in the drawers. It’s habit I guess. I pick up some trash. And I again breathe in deep all the years of loving. How does it come to this? How do I pick up the shattered dreams and delicate pieces of my heart?
I AM enough.
for my power is made perfect in weakness.
so that Christ’s power may rest on me.