Every maze has a dark bit. (2nd post today!)

It is on nights like this that I think of my father.

Nights when it is late, when I cannot sleep, and when I am alone. I feel my father suddenly, sharply, and unexpectedly. Like a sudden stab that bursts unwelcome into my chest and then slides its way down my torso, maliciously letting in the cold outer breeze. I miss him suddenly, after hours or days or weeks of casually thinking "My father is dead. My father has been dead six months and ten days. This is my new life." In a rush, the covered emotion surges, and I feel paralyzed. Paralyzed by loss and grief and disbelief at the horror that is my father's all-too-untimely death. I am nothing now...my father was my anchor. What am I without him? My mother and my sisters feel the same, I think...what now? What or who are we? It's not a question anyone can answer. I simply drift past empty answers, a husk of myself, drifting in search of an answer or identity that I may never find without my father to guide, nurture, and mentor me.

Is there anybody out there?

Hey, you!
...
Can you feel me?

I don't think I ever wrote in here the reasoning behind my name for this blog. "It is in these moments that we are made or broken." This is a quote from a letter written by my father while he was living. I have a more extended version in the "quotes" section of my facebook page if you'd like to read it; it's incredible. He is talking about the trying moments that come when the grat Crisis strikes our lives and we must fight the great battle against the darkness that threatens to envelop us permanently. I thought that it was the best possible way to introduce my blog: a great battle for the light, a challenge to that which is dark, an embracing of courage in the face of fear, an exploration of the world in an effort to find Truth. As I roam the world, I wish to be made or broken in every moment that I experience. I wish to be created anew, molded into a fuller and greater version of myself. I wish to be shattered and reassembled into creature of Love.

I wish to be the warrior that my father was.

Here's his extended quotation:

"The crisis that I speak of will come to us all. But it is during those moments in the fire that we are either made or broken as courageous men and women. Sometimes he makes us by breaking us. Christ Himself fell three times on the way to Golgotha. But He got up again and again and again. We have to do that too. It's the difference between loving and giving up."

-Mark Green


xoxo,

-Kate