Rest In Hope.

Where do you even begin with these things? 

How do you deal with the fact that someone can be here one moment and then gone the next? 

It is something I have never really been able to fathom.

This topic has laid heavy on my heart this week, as I have had to deal with the struggle of losing a close friend as well as watch a coworker deal with losing a loved one. And that doesn't even begin to cover the sad and tragic news involving Robin Williams earlier this month. It is never easy to lose a parent, a child, or a dear friend. And nothing we say or do will change the heartbreaking fact that we cannot bring them back. 

With that said, when others are grieving I tend to grieve right along with them. I know and understand the pain of losing a loved one; and to be honest with you, I don't think we ever stop grieving. 

I remember the day my grandfather lost his battle to cancer. It was the worst feeling I had ever experienced. My grandpa had a one of a kind smile that literally lit up a room. He was just one of those people you wanted to be around. He had a genuine heart and loved others well. There was just something about his spirit that was contagious to be around. Ask anyone. He was a father and a friend to so many yet was taken Home when Heaven decided they needed him more than we did. 

And, though we are left here to grieve, I am reminded that this is not the end. 

While sitting in my living room that evening processing and dealing with what had just happened, I remember looking up. I don't know exactly why it caught my attention, but I remember looking at our ceiling fan only to notice that one of the lights had gone out. And in that moment I felt the Lord say, "He is Home. 

And how incredibly true that is. We were never meant to spend forever here. We were made for so much more. We were made for an intimate, personal, incredible relationship with our Creator. God knew what day would be my grandpa's last day, and though it may have come as a shock to us it was no surprise to the Lord. He knew He was going to get to welcome my grandpa with open arms and that my grandpa would finally be whole and new, and, in complete relationship with his God. 

With that in mind, we can rest in hope. We can rest in hope knowing that our loved ones are where they were meant to be all along. We can rest in hope knowing that this is not the end but merely a beginning. And we can rest in hope knowing that in all things the Lord works for good. He is faithful, He is good. 

So, this is not a "goodbye" but rather a "see you later". We will miss you.

"Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is your faithfulness." - Lamentations 3:21-23

It's Been A While.

Hello Readers, 

It has been a long time since our last encounter. But, I have had so much going on I just haven't had the time to devote. But, let's get to it...shall we?

Lately, I have thought a lot about a profound turning point in my life. To make a very long story short: my sophomore year of college I got very sick, lost thirty pounds within a matter of weeks, experienced a lot of pain, had emergency hospital visits, was diagnosed with a heart condition, spent a week in the hospital, three on bed rest, eight on a very particular diet and exercise program, and as a result, I have a fairly strict diet and exercise routine (though I probably should avoid running 13 miles at once), take multiple pills a day, and have to undergo giving several tubes of blood during hospital/doctor visits about ten to twelve times a year. Now, it does not sound like too big of a deal, and it is not. However, when you are actually going through something like that, it is the only thing that matters. I literally took it day by day; and being in a house alone for that long with a lot of emotional buildup is not very healthy for a teenage girl. I wish that I could say that I was more strong and less selfish during that time, but that is what learning experiences are for (and if you've been keeping up with this blog, you know now that a lot of times God has to speak in big ways to get through to my stubborn heart and mind.) 

I learned a lot while confined on house arrest... Ahem, I mean, bed rest. I learned that I am very bad with needles (God, if I have to have this disease could you at least bless me with good veins?!) I learned that you can make ANYTHING seem fun when you've been stuck in bed for so long, even if that means sweating during an outrageous exercise program. Most importantly, I learned that you cannot enjoy the mountains without experiencing the valleys. The apostle Paul, was beaten, mocked and imprisoned for preaching the gospel. He had every right to pitch a fit and have a bad attitude. Instead he said, 

“Now, I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel… Yes, I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance.” (Philippians 1:12, 19). 

He did not know if he would live or die, be set free or tortured. But he did know that whatever happened was all part of God’s plan. He saw the bigger picture. It is really hard to see the bigger picture when you are in the valley. 

Now, usually it is out of sight, out of mind; just another part of life for me. Except for every couple of months when I have to give the blood I already don't have enough of (because then it is all I can do not to think about all the needles I will be dealing with). Today, while reflecting, I could remember the whole experience. I remember the faces that I saw when I woke up. I remember being trigger happy with the morphine button they gave me (which was incredible, by the way.) I remember my throat being sore and dry from the tubes, and the crazy dreams from the steroids. I remember tons and tons of flowers, balloons, and teddy bears that I threw away when I got home (no offense... they were just very... hospitalish.) And I remember being too tired to stay up on July 4th to watch the fireworks from the high hospital tower.  

However, the thing that stuck out to me today was the presence of people there every day. People who I did not expect to be there every day. People who brought my family meals. My aunt and uncle, who had just made it home from visiting us for the holiday turned right back around to come sit with me. Rebecca and Elisabeth who could have spent their holiday with friends, but chose to lay in a hospital bed with me and watch Made of Honor. Friends who would kneel at my bedside praying for me. Prayer emails were being sent, I had people in other countries praying for me who did not even know me. One of the surgical residences (a very handsome one, I might add) was praying for me, and at one point shed tears for me. My "other parents" cheering when I finally went without coughing up blood long enough to go without the tubes. My wonderful, loving family. My sister who always knew what music to play to make me feel better. And countless, countless others that I cannot even cover. 

I do not say all of this to brag (you are the ones who ought to be bragged about) or to collect pity. I say this so I can thank all of you who were there for me and those of you who are still willing to put up with my doctor's appointments, sit through complaints, and alter your diet or exercise program to not make me lust over food that I should not have or push myself farther than necessary. Yes, I have said 'Thank you' but that could never be enough to repay what you have given me. I wish there was someway that I could repay each of you personally. Hopefully, sometime in the future I will be able to in some way to many of you.  

Finally, I say all of this because that was a mess that I will wear with pride. Even now, when I have weeks like this week where I push myself too far. Weeks like this when I spend a beautiful Wednesday afternoon in the doctor's office, then a night at Cook-Out to make up for it. Weeks like this when I am forced to take my "emergency medicine" and have to deal with the side effects of depression. Weeks like this when I do everything the doctor says yet still have to deal with blood backing up into my lungs. Regardless of weeks like this...I am thankful. Why? Because of you all. 

Because of you all, I have come away a stronger person. Because of your encouragement, company, and prayers, I am able to trust that God has a plan. Like Paul, I could pitch a fit and have a bad attitude...but I must focus on the bigger picture.