Day 24

Father, Will you come and open up our eyes...

I want to understand, but maybe that is where I am going wrong. Maybe I need to give up trying to understand. Maybe having faith is being able to not always understand. Maybe it is trusting without knowing. Maybe it all goes back to believing.

Every morning when I wake up, I wonder if I should, wake up. Every morning my heart breaks. Every morning I remember what I will never forget. Every morning I swallow a cocktail of bittersweet emotions. Emotions brought on by memories, good and bad.

Every morning I consider taking the easy way out. For me, that would be closing my eyes, calling in to work, staying in bed, shutting out the world,  giving in to the darkkness that is constantly threatening to consume me. It seems it would be so easy to stay home and get lost in the memories, the hurt, the anger, the loneliness, the frustration, the confusion. Tempting.

Instead, I choose life. I choose to get up. I go into Zavier's room, turn off his nightlight, and warily peek into his crib.  I go into Juliana's room and wake her up. I reluctantly welcome the pain that is quickly becoming a familiar friend. I wouldn't dare wish the pain away. I want only to make peace with it. I will accept it and learn to live with it. It is now a part of who I am.

I go about my day as best I can. I am thankful for the people who say that I am so strong. I am thankful that the truth is not always so plainly visible. If only they knew...If only they could see...everything that is so wrong with me.

Nonetheless, I choose life. I choose to get up. I choose to believe.