Growth is an attractive word with such devastating pain not far behind. I tend to imagine the growth of a wild flower blooming in the warm sun, when in fact the effort beneath the surface is not seen. Had the efforts not been made, the flower had not been seen; so, the struggle is worth the result, still no less painful.
As I experience this period, I have to continually reassure myself of this fact. It is not, in any way, easy to watch a friend slip slowly away. It is not east to watch your old self slip away; for what was once familiar and comfortable is exchanged for the unknown.
Through prayer, I endevour.
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