I stumble through the usual life, battling brutally raw grief. It is a constant furious force, gouging exposed wounds.
The finality is insulting. Nothing at all will bring my baby back. I have flimsy memories; I have a heart wrecked, ripped and bleeding.
I am less than I was and will ever be. I am a grieving parent.
Amidst my desolate brokenness, I am desperate for God. He hears my groans, my magnified sadness. He turns towards me. He provides sanctuary for my weary soul.
Hear me, oh Lord. Without your light, the darkness would blind me.