Amy, a friend of mine at church, made a comment to me on Sunday. She told me I looked better than I have in a LONG time. She referred how I looked better than I have, really, since we lost Michael (M5). That was a year and a half ago.
WOW. People must have become accustomed to a new "look" about me since then.
It is true, losing Michael, for me, did indeed age me. I was weary and worn. I didn't doubt God's hand in it for one single minute, but it was still a heavy loss for me to bear.
There were times where I would see a baby who would be about his age, hear a song that reminded me of him, or I would just miss him and I would feel like my heart was literally being ripped from my chest. It was painful.
I would cry out to God to heal my broken heart. There are four kids here on earth who need me to be their mother, too. I couldn't understand why I couldn't let go.
Maybe it was a choice, maybe not. I really FELT like I was trying to let him go.
Amy's comment has stuck with me for the last several days, playing over and over in my mind. I believed her, but just attributed it to the "antibiotics" doing their job. What was the significance in her words that I couldn't shake?
Today it hit me: I am healed. I made it through Michael's due date without a single tear. The songs don't hurt. Babies are cute again. God has answered my prayer and healed my broken heart! And not only is it on the inside, but visible in my countenance as well.
When He woke me up the other night and told me to praise Him for healing me - this was it!! Praise You, God, for healing me!!
As for this other thing in my chest, that is snuggled up next to my heart, we will see about it tomorrow. That is when I get my repeat CT scan.
Remembering His Promises
2 days ago