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This week has been physically and emotionally draining. Baby Boy is teething, which means we are both covered in drool, neither of us are sleeping well, and at least one of us is usually cranky. Then on Wednesday, I was spared from witnessing a young woman take her own life by just minutes.

At 12:55 pm, my co-workers and I were getting ready to take the children we work with for a walk, and right before we left, a 25 year old woman threw herself off a balcony of the 28th floor of the building next door, landing just feet away from our entrance. Inside our building, we just reached the lobby when someone stopped us, and we could see police lights flashing outside the glass doors.

When I heard that the person was a woman so close to my age, it struck something inside of me. A summary of my life flashed through my head, and I couldn’t imagine ending it so soon. Who was she? What was she like? What was troubling her? Did she know that there was a church right next door, where she could’ve talked to someone instead of doing this?

These are the thoughts that ran through my head when I saw the white tarp covering the spot where she still laid, surrounded by flashing lights, people in uniforms, and yellow tape.

Why do these things happen?

I couldn’t get my head around it.

While driving home from work, I pass by another church that has a bell and steeple. My mind was still buzzing, trying to process everything.

Traffic slowed down on the road in front of this church and I could hear its bell begin to toll the hour. Soon, the noise of traffic picked up, and cars slowly started rolling forward. Yet, I could still pick out the sound of that sweet bell above the roar of motors and the shrill honking. I counted its chimes for the hour and felt a sense of calm.

It was like God’s “still, small voice” piercing the clamor of the day, reminding me that even more faithfully than that bell announces the hours, God is always…always…good. Even when I don’t understand what is happening or why, I can always rest in Him. He is bigger, stronger, greater than any situation – beyond my own sight or understanding.

I still don’t know anything more about the young woman who died, but I think about her when I drive past her spot on my way home, and I pray. I pray for the family and friends she left behind. And I pray for myself, that I will never forget to cling to the hope that Jesus has given me. No matter what is going on around me or in me, I need to listen for that voice to guide me, to speak truth into my soul.

What reminds you of His voice? What or who is He speaking through to you?

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I came up with this little ditty after my first incident with someone making a comment about how much bigger I’m looking now that I’m pregnant.

Dear God, please grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to not slap people who feel they have the right to openly comment on my pregnant physical appearance.  Amen.

And for the record, it is never ok to refer to another woman’s stomach as a “pooch” – whether or not she’s pregnant!  Just thought I’d throw that one out there, since it’s apparently not common knowledge.  Geez, people…