the sharp knife.

I think a lot. Recent it's been about how I'm feeling. How I constantly feel on the verge of tears. I wonder how those before me have managed to continue on with their lives as I'm here frozen in time, lost in a fog.  I see my friends and my cousins and my parents, who've lost their own parents, in a different way.  I wonder if they've been living in this same unrepairable sadness as I have.  How long have they felt lost?  How had I been consoling when they were going through what I'm going through?  Had I even been consoling?  From what I'm told, I understand this feeling may never go away.  I will always be sad to some degree, quietly mourning my loss, living a life that constantly reminds me of that empty spot in my heart.  Whenever I feel like this I call out to God asking Him to show me some meaning or purpose for my  mother's death.  I desperately pray for some sort of sign, hoping it will bring me some comfort.  I've been at this sad place in my life many times before, in lesser degrees most definitely, but God answers back almost always with this same gentle encouragement...

Going through adversity enables me to connect with God and those in my life in a way I haven't before.  Now I know more.  Now I can relate more.  Now I can love more.

Losing my mother made me realize that I could have never imagined the kind of pain and loss that comes with losing a parent.  But now that I know, I feel some sort of hope that someday I can use this experience to comfort those who have to follow after me.  That somehow I could use this experience to bless others.  At least, I hope so.