A DIFFERENT VERSION OF THE SAME STORY

I've had a hard time getting the words to come.

The past year and a bit has been so full of so much that it's difficult to even think through the feelings, not to mention trying to get them out.

This time last year I was all at once full of fear and hope. Fear that the tiny baby growing inside me would simply stop growing. Hope that the marriage that resulted in my life would be restored. This year, those have been replaced by joy and disappointment, respectively. That little seed grew and flourished as I watched my parents' marriage crash and burn. My mother and father no longer live together. My second daughter was born. It's been quite the year.

The stories woven in and around just those two circumstances are so raw and crowded that it's hard to pick anything out from among the rubble. But I think I'm going to have to try, if only for my own sake, so that I can look back in a decade's time and remember how it felt to get through; to let my lifesong be praise to the One who pieced together the fragments of my days into the portrait that will be on the other side of now.