He’s not coming back.
No matter how much I want him.
37 months today.
How can that be?
A glorious sunrise over the Mountain.
Ushering another day.
No matter how many nights I agonize over his death.
He’s not coming back.
The youngest longs for her own space.
Desires solitude.
Much like her brother in so many ways.
She moves some of her belongings to his room.
She then asks me.
This is not the first time.
She has tried before to move into that space.
The space painted and decorated for my first born son.
A labor of love by his God father, Harold.
Now she, the baby, takes the steps I can’t seem to take.
There’s no reason.
He’s not coming back.
Each time I think I’ve done the hard thing.
There is another lying in wait.
It is imperative to reach outside the sea of emotions.
To yield to the plan of the Savior.
For that which I can not see, is being done.
The plan in place.
Hope.
A path with blind curves each step.
Trust.
Believing there is more.
Faith.
In His time God will reveal what I need to know.
Until then.
I wait.
Right now waiting feels like I am packing Elijah into a box.
Much like his casket.
Relegating him to the Attic.
But what waiting really looks like is an 11 year old becoming the woman God created her to be.
Her desires and style.
Watching her become independent.
Strong.
Yielding to a merciful God.
Not my timing.
Because my timing would never be.
I swallow the lump.
I smile a smile I don’t feel.
I allow her to move her things into the space my red head never came home to.
I take the step I absolutely do not want to take.
In faith.
Believing.
With much love – “good for her!” – ::)
“And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” – Rev. 21::5
“BTW, I effing LOVE that Eric is still badass even when Amnesiac!!”THIS^^ I was so afraid that they would pussify Eric and get it wrong. This is exactly what I would see AE do in the books. 0 likes