In this moment there is stillness.

Grace is there, watching in the wings, observing patiently.

Grace is always there.  She is with me.

I don’t think about her every day like I used to.

Sometimes I go weeks without thinking about her.  The pain recedes.  It isn’t raw like it used to be.  I don’t cry every day.  I’m no longer tearing inside.  I’m torn, but I am stitched together… like a ragdoll.  Badly, the stitches are crude and visible, but my stuffing stays on the inside, and you might think I am whole.

And then comes the guilt.  Did I forget her in those moments?  Am I trying to paper over the cracks and deny what lies in those hollow walls that used to house my soul?

I don’t know.  Most of the time, I don’t know anything anymore.

I have spent so much time bereft of happiness, I thought I might never feel again.

I’m not at peace now, but there is a new joy.

There is a light of my life.  Grace doesn’t mind.  It doesn’t work that way.

Love doesn’t judge, it doesn’t ask questions, it isn’t jealous.  Love isn’t quantifiable or finite.  It is inexhaustible. Love begets love.

I need more love in my life.

But for this moment, there is stillness, and that brings a kind of peace.