Most days, especially lately, I feel incredibly thankful for the journey that we have been on.
That is, until I start diving into the actual memories of what has happened along the way.
Then, as thankful as I am for the lessons that I have learned. For the relationships that I have built. For the God I realized is better than I thought could be. For my daughter. For our future children.
I still wish there was a way for us to have learned our lessons…lived our lives…walked through fire…
without losing our babies.
I am still learning to say thank you. To be thankful. To live thankful. But, there is a season in my life, almost 3 years of living that I have a hard time being thankful for. And don’t get me started on the guilt I start feeling when I think about all of the people out there who have had it so much worse than me…why should I still feel sad sometimes?
The story of grieving has many more chapters than I anticipated. Maybe that is why God was so vigilant in reminding me that He was good when this all began. That His story is sweeter. That He would ALWAYS walk with me. That, with Him, I would really be able to get through anything.
Maybe He did that because He knew that the journey through grief would be longer than I thought it should be.