Yesterday we celebrated our sweet girls 13th birthday. In two separate states, 1400 miles away, we celebrated her life. Last night I laid down with a thankful heart but still a very heavy heart that I have each night. When my eyes opened my heart was still incredibly heavy. Why Lord? The calendar - what's the date. The 7th. That dreaded day, that dreaded number. What month is it? How many months has it been. I begin counting. 6 it has been 6 months. After Abe passed away I didn't think I could ever hurt that way and especially not so soon. My heart had not begun to heal. I had not begun to process what was happening. I had not stopped blaming myself for Abe's death when God called Mary Elizabeth home and I was now blaming myself for two of my children's death. What if? What if I had heard Abe? What if I had taken Mary Elizabeth to the hospital sooner? I know in my heart where these thoughts come from but there is a war raging inside me that I battle every single morning. Before I even have time to put my armor on the enemy is attacking. I don't want to live my life like this. Self absorbed, trying my best just to get through the day. I want to be who God created me to be. I want to carry out my children's memory and enjoy this life with my husband and two beautiful daughters I still have here.