I fell apart last night. It surprised me because it just came out of the blue. I found his baseball glove, under the couch.
Sometimes when you lose someone you go to this place of such deep agony, such profound pain and sadness, you don’t think you can go on. I described it to my Mom as feeling like I’m laying at the bottom of the ocean. There’s miles and miles of water above me pressing on me, drowning me, the pressure is going to kill me. I literally could not breathe. I felt like the rest of my life was going to be that upward swim, towards heaven. It would be agonizing slow. I had miles of water to swim through. I had no oxygen. I knew I was eventually going to get to the top but it would be a terrifying and horrific journey. It was a very dark place. I didn’t feel like I felt God’s presence, I felt very alone and afraid.
Yet he was there. I was crying out and screaming “NO GOD! PLEASE! PLEASE! THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!” I just kept saying, “NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. I NEED HIM. I NEED LUCAS.”
Yet he was there, in my darkest hour. I didn’t feel God at that moment but he was there. He picked me back up off the floor. I went from a place of hopelessness to hopefulness. I felt like I could live again. He will NEVER leave.
“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”