That night, at mass, the message of surrender.  Giving it all to God.  Living with open hands.  Wanting God more than anything.  The story of Abraham, willing to sacrifice his son for love of God...I felt ashamed.  Because in the midst of all of this, if I had a choice, if I could go back in time, if I could write this story’s ending...I wouldn’t choose loss.  I wouldn’t choose your death.  I wouldn’t choose sacrifice, or this cross, or this grief.  I would choose to be your Mom this side of heaven.  The words of our pastor carved into me, and I thought I might bleed out, but I didn’t want to release my emotions. I swallowed them down hard and pretended to be unbothered.  I was convicted, but not convinced.  I was divided.