There came a time when I realized I had a choice. It happened to be while standing over my son’s grave the day he was buried. Faced with the seemingly impossible and daunting task of simply taking the next breath, when the warmth of the sun penetrated my face, and I felt it as if I’ve never experienced it’s warmth before. I knew. I knew my only choice was to live, to share my ‘taboo’ and unspeakable story and to allow God to piece me back together as He saw fit. In His time, like only He could.
My life has consisted of many layers, difficult chapters, and hard seasons, and it’s ultimately up to me how long I allow each one to dictate me.
Grace makes us strong to bear trials, but we still have to bear them