Oh my goodness, I am so very sorry but it has been almost a year since my last post. My life has changed quite a bit in that year, but hopefully I can bring this blog back to life. I haven’t been writing as much as I used to, but that’s definitely something I want to get back into; it provides so much catharsis. This piece is inspired by a random Tumblr post about how Mary must have felt after watching her son be sacrificed again and again. What about her sacrifice?

I suppose this was always how it was going to be; a mother losing her child, over and over and over again. Is this what it means to be chosen? I have been folded over by grief many a time, is this the true reward for faith? I am tormented by images of him strung up and suffering—I am falling to my knees yet again. Oh, God, is this how you protect us? I am at the edge of understanding, I need some sort of reassurance that you are still there. I have been good—I can be better. Open your arms to me and I will give him up yet again. Make yourself known to me and I will bring this lamb to the slaughter myself. I am an obedient witness to you, I will trust that the plan is in place. My pain is simply a test, I know. And his? His is a blessing.