I was still living in the home that once held our family of five. Rooms were now completely empty, the living room bare and our bedroom was...well...void. B and his kids had left. I would collapse at the smallest emotional trigger, a "train-wreck" as some people commonly refer to it. I shed tears daily, sometimes hourly. The failure of my marriage felt catastrophic. Spiritual questions loomed in my mind. Could I hear the Lord? Where was he in all of this? Wasn't he here...somewhere? It didn't feel like it. And if he was, I certainly couldn't hear him. I'd been taking steps one-at-a-time for a couple months, but on one particular day, I was told I had to find a new place to live too. I was crushed. Taking the first steps were hard, but having to leave our home, this home we'd bought together, lived in together, made memories in together...the permanence of this step was overwhelming. I could barely think straight. In fact, all I really knew was that I