grace

my shattered heart

crossBecause of the evil of last week, we as humans are changed.

We mourn with those who mourn.  We pray for their healing.  Our hearts are forever changed.

Yesterday while inside the First Presbyterian Church of Tacoma, First Prsb. church tac, insidewaiting for a choral concert to begin……….before the feeling of calm and peace swept over me, I counted doors.  As we took our seats, yes, I adjust my coat over my legs, those big, huge old churches are drafty and mighty cold.  As Mr. Right put down our umbrella and I sat my purse down, usually calm envelopes me and I take a big breath.  I didn’t realize I did not take a breath yet.  I was jumpy and nervous.  I took in this church again, and acquainted myself with this sanctuary.  It is not our home church.  I counted doors and decided, if need be how I would leave in a hurry.  I looked behind us several times at the two humongous, old wooden doors with huge aged hinges.  I noticed how many pews I was away from everything. Several times during the couple of hours we were there, I caught myself looking around and at the doors.   This is not my usual behavior.  Yes, yes, Mr. Right, counts doors and windows and chooses carefully where he will sit in a restaurant, a church or a meeting place.  He is always on alert.  He is very aware of his surroundings.  He is my rock, always.  Even he was a bit shaken and overly aware.  tac first Presb church

It was another crack in my heart.  Someone  I didn’t even know nor will ever know, changed my life forever.  I want to shake my finger at that person.  I want to yell and scream and make him listen to stories about all those sweet children and caring adults that he decided to kill.   I want him to say he is sorry.  I want him to be upset and hurt and I want his heart to ache too.

Every one of us lost innocence that horrid day.  Some will never, ever get their sweet innocence back.    I so want to go back to being carefree and joyful and silly.  I don’t want to be afraid when I step inside a wonderful old church.  I HATE that he changed us forever.

May God watch over all of us as we try and repair our shattered hearts. broken heart  Our hearts may be shattered, but with His help, we can glue them back together.  They will look different and may act different, yet still stunningly beautiful.  Mad men can’t take away our hearts of goodness.

May we all be bathed in Grace.  Heaven knows we need it.

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4 thoughts on “my shattered heart”

  1. I just read Psalm 37…”Do not fret because of evil men or be envious of those who do wrong:……..” Praying for all the families affected by this latest evil act.
    Keep Mr. Right by your side 🙂

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