I wrote this blog post to share one of the encounters I had with God after my daughter died. This was the first time I heard His voice. I haven’t heard it since, not as clearly as this, but He’s shown Himself to me in so many other ways. I wonder if, on this occasion, He knew I was struggling so He had to be this clear.
Last year, I had an encounter at the cemetery that has never left me.
There have been a number of occasions when I’ve visited Abi’s memorial where I have felt a presence near me; a bit like you might feel when you think someone is behind you, but when you turn around you realise you’re alone. It either makes you shiver a bit or you shrug it off as imagined. But to me, it always feels pleasant, warming. I never thought I’d say that about being alone in a cemetery!
This particular day, I’d visited Abi alone as usual during the morning. I didn’t feel chatty, I felt depressed as though I’d woken with a large grey cloud above me. I was on the verge of tears and confused.
View original post 1,028 more words