Fast forward to 2017, death came to destroy the possibility of what that Spirit was and is; too bad, a loss was never an experience I struggled with, an experience I was never afraid. From the moment I realized evil people existed, I made peace with “for dust you are and to dust you will return.” Genesis 3:19
A loss couldn’t cripple me; however, I was gripped by love, the overwhelming feeling of love, the knowing I touched a peace from God; I knew what I had was unique in my children. I knew my children were given to me to move and be in the presence of God. In many ways, I felt like the Virgin Mary, without the Virgin designate. I am a mother to children who acquired a special something.
I took the time to sit still, stare, and just listen. I watched, prayed and cried. When I held my children for the first time, it confirmed God is real. They had personality even before they could say, Momma. They had character even before they could walk. I was the wisdom to the knowledge they already possessed.
Boxes to the left and right of me, I feel better. I feel better knowing there are new stories to tell that will come from unpacking my boxes. New spaces with old memories, new areas filled with transferred love, peace from God.