Those Days in the Dark (Part 1)

Let’s assume it’s been three years since your life was changed forever. You know, the type of event that catches you by surprise, grabs you by the shoulders, shakes you and pushes your face against the cold, hard ground. Nothing’s been the same since then. It changed you, changed who you are and it definitely changed the way you see life and what you now demand from it. Little did you know at that time, that this was a journey with no shortcuts. Every word, every action, every tear and laughter was like a crumb dropped along the forest path to one day lead you home. Like every other human being, there was a point where rock bottom just wasn’t a good place to be. And like every other human being, it took you two years to make the right choice.

You are filled with regret for the people who were hurt. The hearts that were broken.

But those years have taught you about yourself. They highlighted issues of the past that needed to be resolved. Most of all, those years were a welcome break from trying to live up to being the perfect wife, the perfect sister, daughter, mother.

Those were the years that allowed you to just be.

To be the you that you never got to become.

Because you didn’t know who you were.

And now? Three years later, you’ve accepted those parts of you as aspects of your identity. You are filling the gaps of your heart with the things that matter. You’re still pinching yourself, reminding yourself that the worst is over. That you’ve thrived and survived in pain, in sorrow, in sadness. And that you’re still here.

Not just standing.

But living. Laughing. And holding hands with him whose love is the only one that matters.

And now you want to share the lessons that you’ve learned with others.

That the human heart is resilient and persevering. That when we fall, we will rise back up. That we search for the light only when we are buried in darkness.  That we should be thankful for our days in the dark.

For our days in the sun will be glorious.

2 Comments

  1. Melissa Armbrust

    I love your words Christine. They are real. They always make me say, thank God I’m not alone in the shitty decisions I’ve made and had to pay for. And than God even more for letting those decisions turn into such wonderful things i could never imagine not having them. 🖤🖤

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