Sometimes, you have to go to your son’s grave

and just let yourself be broken.

Sometimes you have to weep

deep, wrenching, breathtaking sobs

for the cancer discovered in your mom’s stomach

for relationships on the edge of brokenness

for the deep realization that you have forgotten how to trust

for the fear that you no longer know how to love

for the disappointment of unrealized dreams

for the worries that tomorrow will be no better than today

for the wounds you thought had healed

for the fact that, despite your effort to fool God

into thinking that this was the year for joy,

you’re getting thrust into even more pain

for the lessons you still have to learn about surrender

for the fact that the only prayer you know how to whisper is

“God, what the fuck?”

Sometimes there is no pretty ribbon to put on a blog post

to make the end seem more hopeful than the beginning.

Sometimes all you can do

is let yourself be broken.

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