Easter marks the twelve-month point in what has been undoubtedly the toughest year that I've ever experienced. I woke early this morning, around 4:00 am, and wasn't able to return to sleep. I've been pondering the last twelve-months and marveling at God's love and mercy. . .entirely appropriate for the day that my Lord was risen.
What a difference a year makes. I reviewed my blog posts from a year ago to refresh my memory on where things were when things began to go so horribly wrong. With God's amazing love, restoration was possible.
If you've read this blog for the last year, you already know the complete and utter heartbreak that has befallen my family and I don't care to rehash the dark days surrounding the death of my brother or my baby. I commented to my husband the other day that it's nothing short of a miracle that the last six months haven't resulted in me experiencing a nervous breakdown. Knowing my own natural propensity toward simple melancholy and outright depression, I fully believe that supplication and intercessory prayer is what kept me together; God's love and mercy is what kept my family from suffering any further.
I've learned that God has further worked to heal another hurt in my heart. . .one that I don't care to discuss at this moment. I have so much that I really want to say, but I'm uncharacteristically going to hold my tongue. Instead I'll leave you with a simple:
Happy Easter. . .He is Risen.