My Path

I woke up this morning at 12:30 a.m. with a start and a pounding heart as my brain remebered that my youngest daughter was not home.  I did not have a clue as to where she was.  My last contact with her was at 6:30 p.m. the night before when she called me from her work to tell me that she was struggling and needed more "space." She would see me in the morning at 11 a.m. to go to church wth me.  She is only 16 years old, and this is always a frightening conversation because of the past several years that we have just gone through together.  Years that have involved startling and heartbreaking discovery of drug use, internet porn involvement, sexual abuse and attacks by perpetrators.  She spent almost a year and a half in a youth rehab program costing us personally about $100,000 and countless hours of support meetings, therapy appointments, hosting girls from the program in our home, and fervent prayers for a miracle in her life. I've looked deep into myself to learn what I need to be doing differently and to implement those changes.  I'm still learning about boundaries and how to appropriately set and stick to them.  I have often felt very much alone, although I KNOW that I'm not.  I have family and friends, and above all my Heavenly Father and Savior.  But those moments still come out of nowhere and hit me like a sledge hammer:  this is not how I thought my life would be.  Then, the hopelessness begins to slowly seep in until the flow begins to build from a trickle to a steady stream to a deluge.  It is at this moment that I desperately need to find some HOPE and strength to keep hanging in there.  Life is good, and will be good.  Thus, my need to document the hope that is around each of us every day, if we will but take the time to look with our eyes, hear with our ears, feel with our hearts.

After this particular restless night, THIS is what gave me the beginnings of hope for today:

A desperate pleading prayer for peace, comfort, protection, and enlightenment

A middle of the night drive with my 20 year old, looking for my 16 year old

A husband who was willing to hold me and listen to me as I expressed the painful heartache of my soul

A song by Mercy River, entitled: It Might Be Hope (which gave me the title and inspiration for this blog)

A calm and peaceful Sunday morning, with beautiful music playing, and my husband and two of my daughters having a fun conversation together.

The sun is peeking out through the layers of clouds.  This WILL be a good day.