Sunday mornings..

have been really difficult for me since Megan went to Heaven. It's hard to get yourself psyched up to go and participate at a place where people are talking, laughing, and singing praises to God. I haven't been in a place emotionally to deal with all of the lyrics that some of the choruses have. Sometimes I mouth the words. Sometimes I try to sing with that huge lump in my throat. Sometimes I just stand there and listen and I can't fight that huge lump. Tears just come on their own.

I don't have a doom and gloom feeling. I know that Megan is safe. I know that I will see her again. I am just overwhelmed by a stream of emotions. Of course I am not going to deny sorrow over the obvious separation we temporarily have. But, I am thankful that Megan is in safe keeping, that we have accepted the free gift that God has given us, that one day we will all be together again, and we will be able to see what our girl looks like in perfect condition and how differently we will be able to interact with her than when we were together here on earth.

Each Sunday, as I contemplate what all this means and at least listen to the lyrics, I have felt guilty. I don't want other people to think that I don't have hope for the future - because I do. I get through most of the week at home sidestepping the landmines that I know about (mostly). But, when I get in the presence of Jesus - I don't feel like crying, "Holy, Holy, Holy!" I just feel like crying. Some Sundays, I have contemplated not going to church because of it.

Then, a couple weeks ago, I heard this song and felt comforted. God does want to know how we feel. It's ok for me to have those feelings. One day, I will feel like crying, "Holy, Holy, Holy!" again. Until then, I hope this song speaks the voice of Jesus telling me He understands.