There she sat next to me in the pew. This time her recovery included a commitment to go back to church. I fought hard to no avail to keep the tears from flowing down my cheeks. My emotions were running high as she sat there as tangible proof of an answer to so many prayers. I didn't know then, that it wasn't going to last but I remember so vividly what God showed me that day.
Read MoreWhen I reached this point in my story I looked up and sitting directly across from me was a lady whose eyes I could see, were filling with tears. I spoke to her directly and said, "This is the toughest part isn't it?" and she nodded.
This is the point in my story where I talk about the guilt. This was the hardest hurdle for me to get over.
Read MoreI distinctly remember the year I lost my Christmas. I didn’t lose the meaning of the season or my appreciation for the birth of my Lord and Saviour. It was His strength that got me through it all but hovering above my Christmas was a dark cloud, a memory. For me, this cloud hovered almost a decade. I felt it every time she relapsed. It lifted during times when she was doing well and then returned with each stumble backwards. Its name is grief.
Read MoreBlonde hair, blue eyes and a wealth of talent. She was my first born; Beautiful, funny, smart and excelled at anything she put her mind to from track and field, dance and figure skating. She had a beautiful voice and sang like an angel. She had the drive and determination of an Olympic athlete. She could have done anything she wanted but ended up doing none of the things she dreamed of because deep inside her lived a little girl who felt unworthy.
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