Sometimes I schedule a post the night before and wake up to a day that contradicts everything I just wrote.
Grief is like that.
Good day. Bad day. Better day. Worse day.
I can barely predict one moment to the next, much less a day or a week.
It’s easy for me to become discouraged when I stare at my own feet-measuring paltry progress when I long for leaps and bounds.
But truth is, no life is lived primarily by giant strides. It’s mostly baby steps and falling forward.
Got up this morning? Step.
Remembered to make that phone call? Step.
Smiled at the bird outside the window? Step.
Looked at Dominic’s picture and treasured the memory instead of crying? Step.
And when I trip over my broken heart listening to a song on the radio and tumble headlong into wracking sobs-I reach out and fall forward, still making a little progress toward learning to live through a day.
It doesn’t matter how fast or how far I’ve traveled in this Valley.
It only matters that I refuse to give up.
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thelifeididntchoose 
Thank you for your blog. January 21, 2017 we said goodbye to our 13 year old son because of an ATV accident. So much of what you say rings true and I find myself surprised that I’m not the only one feeling things this way. Each day is a journey w no knowledge of how it will play out or how I’ll be affected. Or what will bring tears. We still have a caringbridge set up just look up Logan Rautio. While you are ministering to me maybe the site will minister to you too.
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