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Morning has broken

My Brother hasn't moved or spoken since yesterday at 1pm.  The stillness is peaceful. After the restless, painful, scary Tuesday and into early Wednesday, I feel God's mercy.   Not as I pictured it but peaceful just the same.   I listen to his breathing now, not with fear of his last breath. I slept on the love seat restfully.  I woke up twice in the night to stillness. Just the sound of him breathing.
I thought I'd made friends with the pain of my Brother dying.  I fought it pretty hard though. My words to myself in journal form have helped, but as I reread them now I see the complicated, controlling journey I chose..
I'm a tough cookie, I've always told myself.  I don't throw my hands up.  I don't take to my pallet.  I have endurance and stamina and I don't throw pity parties. I always try to do whats right and I think of others first.  These are my conscious values.  I thought heading into this I had what I needed to be with my Brother every step of the way. I did but after much struggling I find that I need God's Grace.
I am aware now that Grace will peacefully do the rest.
I'm not throwing my hands up.  I am folding them in surrendered prayer.
Please join me.



This post first appeared on Blogging From The Boot Heel, please read the originial post: here

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Morning has broken

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