The Voice

I cried tonight. Not an ugly cry, but still a cry. I feel as if I have been on a new journey lately. It's been way overdone but it all started with a near death experience. I'm laying on the operating table, everyone around me seems to be on red alert and I have an oxygen mask being held over my face, rather firmly. I feel as if my mind is racing but the only thought is "My Girls". I have to get back to my girls. I have to get back to my girls. I have to get back to my girls. It becomes my mantra as I am waiting for the anesthetic to kick in. I have to get back to my girls.  And then I pray. My mantra turns into my prayer. "Hello God! I haven't forgotten you. I need you now. Please let me get back to my girls". He/She/It really knows how to get someone's attention. So I am here, I am with my girls and I am listening. I have never doubted that there is a God but I have always questioned our interpretations of It. I think I am done questioning for a while. I think believing is the important part, the rest is minor details. With my lifelong quest to define God set aside I feel as if I can start focusing on me for once. I can finally hear that little voice in my head that has been trying to guide me my whole life. Tonight that voice reminded me that while my mantra was about my daughters I was thinking of my husband too. I cried tonight because that voice was trying to show me how much he means to me. I cried because I feel guilty for needing to be shown. I cried because I am grateful to still have time to show him.