top of page
  • Writer's pictureSIL

Lost One.

When it happens unexpectedly, your heart breaks a little differently. It doesn’t happen all at once. The shock, the reality, the numbness, the denial, the acceptance, the pain. Then it repeats. You don’t get to prepare your world to shatter. It’s only God that can strengthen you to pick up the pieces. It’s only in him that you could truly feel somewhat whole again. Eventually —

Lost. It’s how you begin to feel, without them. Everyday belligerently stumbling into each day. Being snapped out of lingering delusion by soft whispers of voices. Their voice, telling you it’s going to be okay. God’s voice, telling you you’re going to be okay. Your voice, breaking through, telling you I’m going to be okay. Yet, it’s not going to take a day.

Collected. You’ve accrued all of these moments with them here. In physical form. At the other end of every call. Steering every tear from your face after every heartbreak, after every failure. Every careless choice and mistake. Taking for granted every seemingly rushed embrace. Because sometimes life tends to push you that way. Always in motion — never still. Thinking you’ll have that chance soon again.

Loss. Losing my mother has been the ugliest way to make me beautiful. It’s forced me to be an active presence in this story of my life God had already written. It’s not my first, life changing loss. My best friend was tragically taken away 6 years ago. I was forever changed. Now on that 26th day, my mom’s life ended the same month my best friend’s life had once began.

February. The month of love. Devotion. To show your heart. To reveal what’s been hidden inside. And inside all of those murky waters streaming through my soul, I still swim towards the light. God found me alone in the midst of my darkness. I turned to him and he held me with open arms although I hadn’t been worthy at all. Although I pushed him away so many times before. He’s been my father, my mother, my best friend, my shoulder to lean on, my strength, my peace, the reason I can lose and still gain, be lost — yet still be found again. This time more beautiful than before.

Like that rose that grew from a crack in the concrete. Like that eagle perched at the top of a mountain. Like me — broken, but healing together more evenly.

It’s only in him that you could truly feel somewhat whole again. Eventually —


59 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page