Still, in the midst of it I couldn’t seem to exit, couldn’t seem to replace those thoughts. But quietly I sensed another presence.
He entered quietly, as He always did. And with a hand on my trembling shoulder he simply whispered.
Not empty words that would dissolve as soon as he left my side. Not verses that he had written in the love letter he left me. No He simply said,
“Anne, I was with her.”
And the facts I had been forced to live with, that my sister had been murdered were still there. They just seemed to lessen a bit.
Not because they became less horrible. But because one of my fears was that she was alone.
And even without knowing exactly how she died. Without having her body to lay beneath the ground where her gravestone is. I felt something only God could give.
It was a blanket he gently covered me with. To keep the awful cold of reality from swallowing me up.
It was the same one I felt so many other times in my life. When each loved one was lowered below.
Four words that changed my whole outlook of this nightmare. I was with her.
Comfort. He gave me comfort.
With plenty to spare for you.