This past weekend was a rough one.  Grief hit me hard and basically immobilized me.  I slept a lot when I could.  Did not want to think.  Did not want to feel.

With most things, two months passing, you would expect things should be getting better.  Grief, in my opinion, seems to work in the reverse.  The numbness and shock is wearing off.  Reality is setting in and slapping me hard. Things will never be the same.  I don't want to move a moment beyond this day because it would be one step further from the life I loved so dearly the past 34 years.  I'm hardly able to function, barely hanging on to hope that I can pull through this.  I have an overwhelming fear not to.  What type of testimony would that be?  How would that be bringing God any glory?

How can I be so surrounded by family and friends, as I am, yet feel so alone?  They want to be near.  They want to help.  But I can't handle what they would say or do.  My heart is mourning for Mike.  I want him.  Life isn't making sense without Mike. 

I've questioned whether or not it makes sense to continue this blog.  There isn't anything pretty or inspiring here.  There isn't strength in anything I'm saying...or doing today.  My only hope is there will be testimony on the other side of all of this, that might bring God glory.