The Beacon: 2023 06/18

As I sit down to write in my therapy journal, I am reminded of the intense pain that has been my constant companion since the loss of my daughter, Texa. My grief is deep and palpable, leaving me feeling profoundly alone. I never wanted this life, this road of sorrow and heartache I am now walking. But God, in his infinite wisdom, has chosen this path for me.

I am a Bible-studying, scripture-reading, praise and worship-singing, dancing woman. For three and a half years before Texa's passing, I had committed myself to daily You Version yearly Bible Plans, limiting myself to one chapter in the Old and New Testament daily. As a lifelong churchgoer, I realized that the stories had become too familiar, too easy to rush through without truly resonating in my heart. So, I decided to slow down and journey through God's Word deliberately and intentionally.

It was not until Texa's death that I understood the significance of those three and a half years. In my darkest hours of grief, I realized that God had been preparing my heart for the moment I received that devastating news. Though I had no idea what was to come, God's mercy and grace had been with me all along.

I will never forget that fateful Saturday night when I heard the police detective tell me the news that my child had died. The pain was unimaginable, and there were no words to describe the depth of my despair. Yet, in my sorrow, I found comfort in knowing God was with me, even when I could not feel his presence.

As I navigate this journey of grief, I am committed to being honest about the darkness and pain that I am experiencing. It is a journey that is uniquely personal and one that I cannot turn away from.

I want others to see both the pain of loss and the faithfulness of God amid the loss. My faith may be tested, and my heart may be broken, but I will remain faithful to God despite my bruises. To him, I commit my cause.

I have come to understand that light shines brightest in darkness. As I walk through these tough times, I hold the hands of everyone who has lost a child or children. We may be walking a lonely path, but by faith, we can walk together until we see the Master and understand his plans better.