Laura your very words are LIGHT to our souls! This took me straight back to an excerpt from your “What I Learned in 2016” - which is to this day one of the most profound and transformative writings on grief I’ve ever come across!
Here in your words:
“John 1:5 has been clutched in my palm for months. There are a handful of solid gold truths I hold now, and this is one of them: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
Believe this and you believe the whole story.
All you need to move forward is enough light to take one step. Mercies fresh for one morning, then more manna on the ground to gather the next. Enough becomes abundance.
When you cannot see how hope can breathe, starved of oxygen; when all odds are stacked against your feeble favor and your power is reduced to dust; when every goodness you dreamed and labored to bring into the world has been ripped out of your hands – this is the moment when you start to see in the darkness.
Behold: there is just enough light there to see one foot forward, bumbling and blinking. It is the only step you need to take next.”
May there be just enough light, perfectly abundant enough, to take every next step! Praying and walking in the light right alongside you.
I've been thinking a lot about meeting God in God's absence, too. It sounds poetic, but it's hard to pin down in the daily swirl of coat hooks and diapers.
This is beautiful. I hear your grief and exhaustion. I get it in a different way. We had a winter that wasn’t… nearly all of our holidays spent in hospital. It’s tragic but feels not alone when I read your words, every time. A new writer friend told me yesterday, write for those who get it, need to get it. I read those who get it, and you’re one of them. Praying for you. Love to chase light along with you.
I always love reading your stuff so much. Thank you for sharing this, Laura. Hopefully you can send some of that up north to Duluth. We too briefly saw some sort of weird firey orb in the sky this week that terrified the locals, and authorities are still trying to determine what it was and whether it will return.
Your writing always touches me deeply and inspires me. I've spent many years in the "dark night of the soul" and know it well. I was encouraged reading about Mother Teresa and her nearly lifelong dark night. My situation brings a lot of what's called "ambiguous grief" where you haven't lost someone to death, but you have had big losses in your life and need to grieve them. You're going to be healing from the cancer treatment for a longer time than you'd hope, and in that healing I believe God will continue to bring sunlight and times of joy and peace and fun and pain and frustration. I read years ago that the more pain we experience, the more we're hollowed out which will also allow us to feel that much more joy. I'm still waiting to see if that's true. I do believe my ability to love has grown deeper and more profound, whether it's a sunrise, a beautiful work or art or nature, or my kids' and grandchildrens' faces. I pray for your healing daily and I appreciate your IG videos and writings more than I can say.
Laura your very words are LIGHT to our souls! This took me straight back to an excerpt from your “What I Learned in 2016” - which is to this day one of the most profound and transformative writings on grief I’ve ever come across!
Here in your words:
“John 1:5 has been clutched in my palm for months. There are a handful of solid gold truths I hold now, and this is one of them: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
Believe this and you believe the whole story.
All you need to move forward is enough light to take one step. Mercies fresh for one morning, then more manna on the ground to gather the next. Enough becomes abundance.
When you cannot see how hope can breathe, starved of oxygen; when all odds are stacked against your feeble favor and your power is reduced to dust; when every goodness you dreamed and labored to bring into the world has been ripped out of your hands – this is the moment when you start to see in the darkness.
Behold: there is just enough light there to see one foot forward, bumbling and blinking. It is the only step you need to take next.”
May there be just enough light, perfectly abundant enough, to take every next step! Praying and walking in the light right alongside you.
That was beautifully said Deanna. Thank you.
I've been thinking a lot about meeting God in God's absence, too. It sounds poetic, but it's hard to pin down in the daily swirl of coat hooks and diapers.
This was a balm for a weary soul. Yesterday when I was praying, the light broke through a weary winter day and wrapped me in His goodness.
This is beautiful. I hear your grief and exhaustion. I get it in a different way. We had a winter that wasn’t… nearly all of our holidays spent in hospital. It’s tragic but feels not alone when I read your words, every time. A new writer friend told me yesterday, write for those who get it, need to get it. I read those who get it, and you’re one of them. Praying for you. Love to chase light along with you.
I always love reading your stuff so much. Thank you for sharing this, Laura. Hopefully you can send some of that up north to Duluth. We too briefly saw some sort of weird firey orb in the sky this week that terrified the locals, and authorities are still trying to determine what it was and whether it will return.
I just stumbled upon this thread. Is this a grief and loss group? Website?
This is the writing of Laura Kelly Fanucci and those of use who read it and weep, find joy, smile, etc because Truth speaks to our hearts.
Your writing always touches me deeply and inspires me. I've spent many years in the "dark night of the soul" and know it well. I was encouraged reading about Mother Teresa and her nearly lifelong dark night. My situation brings a lot of what's called "ambiguous grief" where you haven't lost someone to death, but you have had big losses in your life and need to grieve them. You're going to be healing from the cancer treatment for a longer time than you'd hope, and in that healing I believe God will continue to bring sunlight and times of joy and peace and fun and pain and frustration. I read years ago that the more pain we experience, the more we're hollowed out which will also allow us to feel that much more joy. I'm still waiting to see if that's true. I do believe my ability to love has grown deeper and more profound, whether it's a sunrise, a beautiful work or art or nature, or my kids' and grandchildrens' faces. I pray for your healing daily and I appreciate your IG videos and writings more than I can say.