My heart broke this afternoon as I listened to your story and tried to understand even a fraction of the horror you’ve lived through. I knew bits and pieces from the brief notes you’ve sent me before, but those messages came across many miles and through a computer screen. I couldn’t see your eyes or hear your voice like I did today across the small round table that separated us. I wonder if my face said what I couldn’t find my voice to express. I’m pretty sure it didn’t so, as chicken as it seems, can I please finish here what I wanted to say there?
I’m sorry, sorry to be such a weenie that all I could say today was “I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry for your loss that is as real now as it was the day your world crumbled.
I’m sorry for the tears you cried with those who loved you and the ones you’ve shed when you were all alone.
I’m sorry that there is such evil in the world and I’m sorry for all it stole from you.
But I am also proud. I am proud that you have not given up on life.
I’m proud that you have not given up on the rest of humanity.
But most of all, I’m proud of you for putting one foot in front of the other.
And I’m grateful. Grateful that you haven’t given up on God who allowed His creation the choice between good and evil and then paid for the damages that freedom would incur with the life of His own son, Jesus Christ, the darling of heaven.
You’ll go home and I’ll stay here, but a part of my heart will never be the same and I will always pray for yours.
Much love in Him,