In the beginning, all I could see were the pieces.
For me, it started with a single moment in time. Letters formed words. Words formed a sentence. And that single devastating sentence was followed by the sound of my heart silently breaking into millions of pieces. More pieces than I could ever count.
For months I couldn't seem to move. My spirit laid still and simply focused on breathing in and out. In and out. Breath by breath. Day by day. Piece by piece. Until one day I discovered I had just enough strength to sit up and look around. Looking at the pieces around me. What a hopeless mess. I couldn't clean it up. I couldn't fix it. The broken pieces were all that was left of me.
In the immediate aftermath of my sister's passing, I was at a complete loss for words. But as I fought my way through the fog of my grief and began to sort through the bits and pieces, I began to hear a whisper in my heart: "Write."
So, I wrote. I took one day at a time, writing when I had the words and waiting when I didn't. Clinging to God in my grief, searching for hope in my sorrow, I watched as the bits and pieces I was writing came together to paint a picture of God's great faithfulness.
This book is my standing stone of the last five years. He can create beauty out of the most hopeless of bits and pieces.