Even before Lucy was sick I couldn't wait to get on this page and write about our daily adventures. Even when those "adventures" never saw us leave our yard, there was always a reason to write. This was my scrapbook, my journal.
I haven't blogged in a while and I'm honestly doing so tonight through clenched fists. The pages of the last few months remain blank. I have so many pictures, so many memories to share, so many words to write--yet I can't. The passion isn't gone. It's a physical sickness that is stopping me.
To those of you who have sent me emails, I want you to know that all is well in the Krull house. The kids are enjoying summer and both girls are on swim team. VBS is this week and we are going to the beach next week. It will be a well deserved vacation.
I want to write again. I want to find the freedom that my fingers knew once more. Even opening the Blogger page was an anxiety-riddeled exercise. I don't quite understand why I can't do it. Why has the peace associated with writing escaped me? Even if no one ever read this page again, I want to write. I want to be here. I want this to be my heart once more.
I'm praying and asking God to help me work through this. I know it's all part of the grieving process but I'm ready to move on. Working all those details out still has me on bended knee.
I wanted to share this testimonial with you guys. We've told our story a million times. I've listened to Lucy's hell retold by countless scribes. But this one. As I watched this video I couldn't breathe. Maybe it was Dr. Boop speaking. I'm not sure. I can tell you that every bit of it was from the heart.
