There seem to be so many voices ringing in my head, screaming at me, trying to inform my understanding of grief—telling me how to do it, what it should look like, and when it should occur. These are voices from books I have read, voices from friends, voices from other grieving parents, and voices from within.
All the competing voices leave me feeling inadequate, fearful, and wounded.
I have to keep reminding myself that there is really only one Voice that matters. I want my heart to be so attuned to that still small voice that all the other shouting voices fade.
Please quiet my heart dear God, so I can hear you whispering to me.