Everything does NOT happen for a reason.

I was shocked by what I was hearing at the ladies’ lunch that day. One of my new friends began to explain that her husband of 15 years had been having an affair. He was divorcing her and moving in with the “other woman.” She started to cry as she talked about their two tweenage sons. Life was a mess. She proceeded to tell us that she was quitting her job that she loved. She’d be taking the alimony to go back to school in order to provide for herself and kids. Then, in an attempt to wrap up this ugly package with a beautiful bow, the words came out of her mouth.

“Well, I guess there’s a reason for everything.”

I bit my tongue. Oh, I have walked in those shoes! I have let that phrase rattle around in my head as I dealt with the fastball sting that life hurled into my glove. While I pondered my own struggle with “everything happens for a reason”, one of the other gals spoke up.

“Oh no…” she said.  “Don’t put this on God.”

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The Only Thing Scarier Than a Shattered Dream is a Blank Canvas

Even before the “until death do us part” in my early 20’s, I had begun to draw out the sketch of my life. All 20 year olds do it.

My drawing was done on a beautiful white canvas. I took my permanent black marker and drew out my life with the only man I ever loved. My sketch had a house and a few kids. I was careful not to get too fancy on the house. Not too set on how many kids and not too determined how many would be boys and how many would be girls.

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