Doors and windows

Ive always loved Sunday mornings. They have a way of refreshing my perspective and opening my heart.

There is an old saying that says when God closes a door he always opens a window. Sometimes I struggle to be satisfied with the opening of windows. In fact quite often I fight against what they have to offer.

This morning I woke and with consciousness came the awareness once again that Ryan is gone. Really truly gone and my heart hurts, my hope feels dim and I wonder how to go on.

The other day I sat in the temple trying to get the courage to let him go. I couldnt seem to stop crying. I couldnt seem to find the strength to just say goodbye to him and move forward. I had a beautiful experience that reminded me of HF's promises to me but I felt tired of living on promises. A promise doesnt do you much good when you find yourself all alone on a friday night. A promise doesnt help much when you sit watching your little sisters who you cared for as infants moving forward and marrying and having their own babies. A promise doesnt make the lonely nights any warmer or the heartache any less.

I sat there begging for comfort. And even that seemed not enough. I didnt want to feel comfort from the spirit. I wanted something tangible. Something real. I wanted a hug and I wanted it from a real live being that I could see and feel and touch. I wanted to know that someone cared. I prayed for that and within minutes from across the room came a sweet missionary. This girl had been in my ward and recently left to serve her mission. She was still in the MTC and this particular morning was her temple day. She remembered me and came and sat with me and held me while I cryed. Just knowing that HF really heard my prayer knew when I had, had enough and sent me exactly what I needed somehow gave me the strength to accept the open window he has offered me. Later when it came time to tell Ryan all that I had been feeling and to let him go I felt a strength and a comfort that I would never have imagined I was capable of holding me up and carrying me forward. I did it with very few tears and even after he kissed me goodbye and walked out of my door that feeling stayed with me and carried me through the next couple of days.

So this morning when I woke and reality hit me. The strength I have been feeling significantly lessened and the weight of the loneliness increased I came here to write about what I know, to remind myself that I am not alone and that my Father knows what I can handle and when I really can do no more he will carry my load. I know that and so I square up my shoulders take a deep breath and watch the sun, rising on a new day through my little window.