It was not without a struggle that I finally walked out the door yesterday morning to go to church. I had a hard time finding something to wear that would help me feel 'put together'. My heart felt heavy. I felt lonely. I would have never imagined or desired a November Sunday morning like this one.

I tried to reason with myself why it was a good thing I was going to church - even though it felt hard. I felt overwhelmed at the thought of walking in alone, enduring the worship songs while fighting tears, and interacting with others whose Sunday seems so different than mine.

I ended up turning around. I drove back home. When I got inside I put on Nate's sweatpants and one of his hoodies. They remind me of how peaceful and secure it was to be in Nate's embrace. I miss him. My inside hurts.

I turned on a cd with truth-filled lyrics, grabbed the cozy soft blanket that was given as a gift to remind me of God's loving arms, and sat on the couch. Still no tears, just a heavy heart. A heavy, confused, lonely, sad, overwhelmed, insecure and fear-filled heart.

I began re-reading a book I had read quite a few years ago...

Shattered Dreams - Larry Crabb

In our struggle to handle the pain of shattered dreams, however, one question is rarely talked about with honesty. The question is this: What do we do with how we're feeling toward God?

Do we even like God, let alone love Him? Is He on our list of cherished friends? Are we resting in His goodness, confidently trusting Him to work all things together for our good?

In the chaos and heartache of dreams that crumble, God so often seems to pull away. When we cry the loudest, He sometimes turns a deaf ear. Nothing changes. Husbands don't come back.

And when He fails - we feel betrayed, let down, thoroughly disillusioned. He neither reverses the tragedy nor fills us with peace and joy.

How do we trust a sometimes disappointing, seemingly fickle God who fails to do for us what good friends, if they could, would do?

Tears soon began to slide down my cheeks. I feel hurt. I feel betrayed. And I question God's power and His love. I question His presence.

Wounded - Shane & Shane

Why since you’ve wounded my heart
Don’t You heal it?
And why since you’ve stolen my heart,
Do you leave it so?

Why don’t you carry away my heart
You have stolen and left here broken
Why don’t you carry away my heart
Already taken

How long? How long? How long?

I continued reading...

"The Lord will be king over the whole earth. On that day there will be one Lord, and his name the only name" (Zechariah 14:9).

The best hope, our highest dream of being in His presence where nothing ever goes wrong and where we fully enjoy Him more than every other blessing, will not be granted till the next life.

We will not suffer in heaven.

I finished the chapter and closed the book. I sighed and wiped my cheeks. And then I heard myself whisper, "I love you Jesus". It wasn't forced. It just came out. It was my only response. And it startled me. Amidst the sadness, hurt and loneliness - I recognized a peace. A loving peace. The peace a promise brings. The promise of heaven.

A promise I desperately cling to.
A promise I eagerly yearn for.
A promise that brings me peace.

I still hated climbing into the empty bed last night. I woke up feeling unsettled this morning. Mondays without Nate are just as lonely as Sundays and every other day of the week. Despite the 'normalness' that comes with the altered and adapted routines - there is a dominant emptiness. The promise of heaven doesn't make that go away. It doesn't change this hated reality. But the promise of heaven holds peace - and this peace has a place beside my sorrow.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, ... And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6