My first post may have led you to believe I figured this whole death-grief-life thing out. Sorry to disappoint y’all, but not even close.
See, I didn’t always trust that there was a plan for me. I mean, really, who was going to fully rely on some supposedly omnipotent being called God and let Him control their life? I certainly wasn’t. I was stronger than that. I didn’t need God in my life. I was outraged that He took my Daddy away from me; and I fought back.
I was not a sheep. That was my philosophy on the whole God thing. I was not going to be led. I was taking charge of my own life. I was stronger than God. Push me and I’ll push back – just ask my mom!
I was interning at a drug/alcohol rehabilitation center, finishing up my degree in psychology, working at a local coffee shop, running through the grief, and charging through life. No one was going to tell me how to live MY life. No one.
Then someone walked into my life. Someone I had no idea would help me learn so much from Life and from God.
He would come in to the coffee store to buy several large coffees for him and his co-workers. Which meant he would deplete us of coffee! So I brewed another pot each time and we would talk. I got the courage to call him up one day and ask for his assistance on a project, and he so boldly replied, “on one condition, that you have dinner with me.”
We went to dinner and we realized that our paths had crossed multiple times in the past and we had no clue. His band played my Junior Ring Dance, he did some work at the drug/alcohol rehab in which I interned (he was THE cute guy I asked my co-workers about), and we had ridden horses at the same barn ( he may have even helped teach at my riding camp).
We fell head over heels in love, two broken people, and got married exactly one year after our first date.