I Am Not Worthy

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.

The five stages of grief.  I move through them, circling, rewinding, progressing, repeating the first four steps so many times I lose count.  I feel as though I have moved on to acceptance.  I let my guard down a fraction of an inch to exhale, but grief is a sneaky bitch.  She reaches out an iron fist to squeeze my heart once again.  There are times that I can see the blow coming and can shield myself from the brunt of it.  But she has caught me in a moment of vulnerability and I am blind sided by the force with which it struck me.  My breath catches in my lungs, frozen in place, while tears well up in my eyes.  I don't even realize that they are streaming down my face until the collar of my shirt is soaked with them.  I feel a hand reach out to grasp mine and that is my undoing.  The breath that has been frozen releases in a sob as I bury my face in her neck.  Time stands still.  I feel nothing but the waves of grief washing over me.  As the pain subsides and the clock begins to move again, I am acutely aware of a voice whispering in my ear. I love you.  I am here.  Always.  I love you.  No matter what happens, I will always be here.  I love you.  I am here. I love you. I am here. I love you.  Her arms are around me and she is gently rocking my broken body back and forth, stroking my hair, soothing my soul. The abundant love that is so freely shared humbles me.  

Here tonight in this space I feel the love that passes all understanding.  I feel the grace of God in human form.  An angel that has stood in the divide and covered the gap. 

I am reminded again that the pain of what I have lost cannot begin to compare with the magnitude of what I have gained.  

I am not worthy. 

I am not worthy.