Mornings

My grief would hit me at night after Jesus came for Jamey. It was between the hours of 8pm-10pm when visitors had left, dinner was over, the settling in for the night began. 

It was very quiet. 

Very Lonely.

I could see the grief in Brenna and in myself.  We both had the 'look'.  That glazed eyed, walking in a fog look.  I had that feeling in the pit of my stomach.

This would be the time when Jamey and I would sit on the couch, snuggle, watch TV, talk, hold hands, and just be together.  On nice nights, we would go on a walk or run around the neighborhood. Or we would sit on the patio and hang out. 

I have been running on adrenaline for almost two months now and I'm tired.

Exhausted, really.

Now, the evenings have become more routine and by the time it is bedtime, I'm exhausted and go right to sleep.  

But now, the mornings, they slap me in the face.  

Morning are, by far, the hardest part of the day for me. I wake up and reality hits me in the face, over and over and over again.

I've had a few very vivid dreams about Jamey and that is the hardest. I wake up hoping he is there beside me.  I wake up hoping this nightmare is over and it is not true.  I wake up to reality.  And, it stinks.

Before I even get out of bed, I ask God to take it because I can't do it alone. This devotional hit the nail on the head for me.  God is there for me, always.  He never leaves me.  He gives me strength.    

I know He is there.  I feel Him.  I know that He is the only reason I am able to get up out of the bed.  God promises to never leave you.  He has not left me.  He is where I have to put my trust that it will all be ok.  Days where I have doubts, pain, tears, He is the only one I can lean on.  

The days are not easy, but He is how I get through them.