I think a lot. I just don't have time to sit and ponder like I would like and share my thoughts... but I have a minute while Monkey sleeps, so...
Monkey and I had to take something to Eric at his Karate class tonight. As I was pulling out, I noticed a building across the street~ a building I drive past so often and don't think a thing. But tonight was different. A lady in black walked towards a man and they hugged. A deep, heartfelt hug. and it struck me: they were comforting each other in their mourning. You see, they were in the parking lot of a funeral home. The same funeral home where we had Micahs memorial. The same place where my friends and family met (through grainy pictures) and said good bye to Micah.
I find myself so caught up in life a lot of times. And then something hits me. Like tonight. Like watching Piper grow and learn new things and realizing what I am missing with Micah.
But in the same breath, I realize that I cannot change anything that has happened. I have always felt like I needed to live to honor Micah... I am not sure what that means, exactly, but I get glimses of it every now and again.
1 comment:
Karin,
Nine years ago now I started a few years in a row in which every year carried a trauma with it. My job was cut (my whole department) at a place that I loved to work. My husband became violently ill for three months before a cause was found. Our younger daughter became ill and depressed for years before the cause was found. I found my sister dying in her home-she was 16 years older than me, but the next "girl" up in our family and we were close. A drunk driver hit my car at top speed while I was parked in a church parking lot waiting for my youngest to come out of youth group, tearing off the back of my car about a week before Christmas. And then, of course, my husband's only nephew died last summer just before we got Aidan's referral.
Sometimes it takes a while to figure out what you are supposed to do with these events. For years now, I have had extreme anxiety over the car accident because my daughter was late getting out of youth group by five minutes-had she been on time, she would have been crushed between the vehicles. I knew I should be thankful that she was safe, but I remained fixed on the closeness of the accident and the blink of an eye that can change everything. Just a week ago I finally realized that God was probably at work that night. In fact, she told me that the reason they were late was that she and her friend (her friend's mother was the only other one hit-she was parked beside me) had memorized so many Bible verses that the group had an extra long "treasure chest" reward time at the end of their meeting.
So I think my point is that the reason, if there is one for our tragedies, won't come to us while we're looking for it. It comes to us most often when we're not.
Blessings,
Ruby
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