I haven’t been able to go home for over a week now. I’m feeling pretty low, but I’m pulling it together the best I can. I don’t quite feel like myself. This experience has taught me something that I totally want to share though. After everything, the only thing I kept repeating to myself for years was “peace” That’s all I wanted. I would cry about having peace. Just Kevin, myself, and a nice peaceful existence in my home. All day everyday that’s what I would pray to Jesus about. “God, PLEASE give me peace.” I’d pray for everyone else to find love and happiness but for me it was just that. Ironically it seems like the more I prayed for peace, the more things started getting shaky. Not suddenly but slowly. Before this situation happened, things that I also prayed about were happening. I took a moment and thought, “Okay, things may be starting to turn around!” Suddenly, these things that seemed impossible were starting to happen.

 Then this particular situation happened, and I felt that feeling again momentarily. “Peace” a word I’ll never really feel. I've cried so hard for days on end trying to be a mom and regain composure. It then occurred to me that perhaps peace is on the horizon. Maybe taking me out of my comfort zone and making me experience new emotions, twisting my sense of security in two; Jesus is like, “You need THIS to happen in order to experience peace” “Trust me” he says in the quietest of moments. I think when we go through really tough things in our life, we can sometimes cling on to creature comforts too tightly. That house meant everything to me because it’s where I grew up and I inherited it, but I also remember my dad looking for acreage in Mississippi before he died. He was completely baffled that I even wanted to stay here. But I lost safety. Every man in my life who protected me and loved me died. Then taking care of my mom while being a mom made my nervous system overloaded. The only thing I wanted was peace. The only thing I had for certain was my son and my home. I miss being home. I miss my bed, my coffee pot! I miss my own bathtub, and I miss my usual’s but I also think this whole thing has allowed me to accept that maybe home is a state of mind. Home really is where you make it. It’s part of God’s plan for peace. Maybe I have to let go of things I’ve clung on to in order to feel “safe”. Trusting and then wanting to break down completely is the battle going on in my mind right now. Maybe I’ve done a little mix of both? The way life has been this last week, my voice is all weird today from off and on crying, but I’m still hanging on and trusting that everything is going to be okay. More than okay.  We try to understand and make sense of why things happen but at the end of the day, looking back, it’s supposed to happen to bring us to the next step. I’m exhausted. I’m just so tired. So so so so so so so tired.