When I was in high school, we were assigned a project that involved creating a coat of arms that would represent us. Mine ended up having a sun ray of hope, a cross of faith, an open book of knowledge, and a broken heart held together by a band-aid.

Looking back on it now, I think that it shows that even though I saw myself as "broken", I continued to have hope that some kind of healing was possible for me.

I've told you that story so I can tell you this one:

If you read my blog yesterday, you know that my oldest and best friend Kylie sent me an email to announce the ending of our friendship. As you might expect, this hurts - a lot - and I'm not gonna lie and say I'm okay at the moment.

But somehow, I haven't lost hope. Not hope for a reconciliation, although that would be wonderful, but hope that even though it hurts now, one day it will hurt less and less, and that in the end I'll be stronger for having gone through this.

Last night at work I read a book called "Why?" which is about dealing with pain and suffering and bad times from a Christian perspective, and I have often asked "Why, God? Why am I trans? Why did I have to get hurt so badly so young?" But reading the book, I felt like I was being answered, at least a little. Not that I know the whole "why?" but that there is an answer, and I'll know the whole answer someday.

And somehow, that has given me confidence dealing with losing Kylie. Its like I heard a still, small voice saying "If God can redeem your gender struggles and your abuse, surely redeeming the loss of your best friend isn't beyond him."

Now comes the hard part - holding on to that faith in the middle of this awful grief ...

Ah, well.