No pain too deep
It’s almost 3am, and I can’t sleep…again. One of the side-effects of PTSD, I’m sure. I never really ever thought that I’d experience that. I mean, isn’t post traumatic stress disorder reserved for war vets and violent crime victims? Apparently not.
For some reason, He speaks to me a lot at night. Maybe it’s because that’s when I’m most still. Most silent. Most receptive to hear Him. Or maybe it’s because He realizes that’s when I need Him most. The nights are still so very hard.
As I sit typing these words, I’m listening to “How He Loves” as performed by WorshipMob. It just hit me to give it a listen for the hundredth time, just as it hit me to start writing. It’s one of two songs that were performed at Mia’s memorial service, and it’s really bittersweet for me. Not only does it remind me how much Christ…
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