In the Beginning, There was Grace

"We, as Christians, can take times of hardship and allow them to distance us from God OR we can acknowledge that He is sovereign and continue to honor Him even when things don't go our way. This is certainly difficult to do and we have times in which we don't necessarily feel all happy and peaceful inside as we would like. Sometimes the best we can do is say 'Father, I'm in pain and I don't understand why this is happening. But I trust You in the good times and the bad and I ask that you would be with us through this hardship'."

-Jake Pendleton, father of Baby Jude

Over the course of the last six weeks, as Ryan and I eagerly anticipated our 18 week ultrasound, I have become highly sensitive to any and every story involving babies. We have celebrated the pending adoption of Emerson, a baby girl brought to live with her half brother and their wonderful family. We have cried with some of Ryan's friends as they face a very similar situation to the one we faced when they told us our baby had a cystic hygroma. Though I have never met them in person, I know how that feels, to have your worst fears come true.

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Lastly, we have been following the incredible struggle of a baby boy from Dothan, Alabama whose airways will not allow him to breathe on his own. For weeks, we have prayed for and watched the posts about Baby Jude, but yesterday his father posted that he was not doing well and the hospital has encouraged him to come to the NICU despite his own illness.

Seeing the struggles these other families have endured has encouraged us that we are not alone in our wait and that there is still hope! As Jude's father put it, "Sometimes the best we can do is say 'Father, I'm in pain and I don't understand why this is happeneing. But I trust You in the good times and the bad and I ask that you would be with us through this hardship.'" That is so hard to do sometimes when it means holding out everything that you love in your hands and opening them up to give them back to the Lord. Ryan has used this analogy when we pray, saying, "Lord, please let us hold everything with open hands." I want my heart to do that, to give freely back to the Lord even when I don't understand.

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Last Monday, Ryan and I went to the doctor for the ultrasound we had been praying we would be able to reach. After the genetic counselor had given us so many possible outcomes in April, we were nervous for our little one. How would the baby look? Would it be whole? How would the day end? So many questions rattled our brains as we went into the little room with the sonogram equipment. 

Ryan held my hand as the technician put the gel on my tummy and told us that she would not be able to tell whether or not things on the ultrasound look good. We would need to wait for the doctor to answer our questions. Soon after, we caught our first glimpse of our tiny baby in nearly two months. Tears came to my eyes seeing our little one squirming and rolling around. Silently, I sent about a dozen new prayers up to the Lord.

Despite her previous declaration that she would be unable to label anything as "good" or "bad", I think the technician sensed our nervousness and ended up saying things like, "That's good." Since it was an anatomy ultrasound, her job was to label the different body parts. We got to see our baby's pinky fingers, toes, elbows, and the nose Ryan says looks like me already. The tech asked if we want to know the sex, and we said we did. Just as I had suspected, we are having a baby girl!

During the sonogram, the nurse came in with the results of the noninvasive prenatal test I had done two weeks prior. She excitedly told me that they had come back negative for Down's Syndrome, Trisomy 13, and Trisomy 18, the most feared of the chromosomal abnormalities. A weight shifted off my chest to know that our baby did not (most likely) have anything wrong with her genetic code. The doctor later explained to us that this particular test did not check directly for Turner's Syndrome, but that the lab states they will report any abnormal findings with regard to sex chromosomes. Because there was nothing in the results to suggest such findings, we can assume that the baby's chromosomes appeared to be normal. Beyond that, the doctor, who we had never seen before, told us that upon looking at our ultrasound images, if he had not known the baby's previous diagnosis, he would have told us we have a healthy looking baby girl. Even though she is measuring a little on the small side, her fluid levels are down to normal.

The whole visit was a whirlwind - I left feeling like I'd just ran a race. My heart raced and my breath was labored. As soon as we got into the car, I burst into tears. I'm still in awe of how this could have happened, how we could get such a devestating report one day, and then weeks later get nearly an opposite one. I am still trying to understand how our baby seems to be healthy while so many other babies are not. In my head, I know the answer, that God's will is perfect and not always the way we want it to be. But in my heart, I am still struggling to accept this. The Lord is continuously working in me to be at peace in His arms. I know He is holding baby Jude there along with our little girl.

This pregnancy, while still only 19 weeks along, has been a journey through which God has taught us more than I had possibly imagined. It is still difficult for me to process because my mind wants to put the Lord's will into a box that makes sense to me. But I know it doesn't work like that. And I am forced to remember Jake Pendleton's words. The Lord is Sovereign, and it is our delight to honor Him in the good times and the bad times because He is always there for us. That is truly the point.

Baby Jude during the beginning of his stay at the Boston hospital
Baby Jude's Go Fund Me

More than anything, Ryan and I desire for our daughter and for all of our future children to serve the Lord with their lives. Even though she has been in the world for such a short time, our baby girl has already touched so many and been touched by countless prayers and blessings. She has felt the hand of the Lord heal her, a physical act that mirrors the grace that God has always shown to His people. From The Fall to The Cross, Grace has been evident and continues to work in the lives of people like Emerson, like Jude, like all babies with cystic hygromas, and like us.

We wanted our baby's name to reflect this manifestation of love, so we have chosen the name Genesis Grace. Genesis because it means, "In the beginning," and Grace because from the very beginning, there was grace. 

In Just a Moment

“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.

"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

-The Fellowship of the Ring

Some moments in life make you forget how fleeting it is. They're sweet, and full, and trick you into believing that all of it lasts forever. Other moments are stark reminders that this place is not our home, and a lot of the time, these moments hurt.

There is no blame to shift for these moments. In fact, they are gifts from God so that we don't become too comfortable down here on this earth. They can be confusing though. You are suddenly left dazed and wondering what just happened and how you could have been so blissfully oblivious seconds before.

Ryan and I had one of those moments. After seeing the ultrasound of our twelve-week old baby for the first time, we were absolutely thrilled. We sat in the doctor's office, waiting for the doctor for about thirty minutes, but we didn't care. She could take all day. We were having a baby, and on the little pictures we held in our hands, it looked perfect.

Then the doctor appeared. She apologized for taking a long time, then sat down and said something that changed our lives from that moment on: "There is an abnormality in your baby's ultrasound." It was like my worst fear had been realized - there was something wrong with our baby. Ryan came and stood next to me, holding my hand. I don't know if he did that for me or for his own comfort. The doctor went on to explain what this "abnormality" was and what it could imply for our little one. As she spoke, I could feel a grip around my heart tightening and my stomach turned. I thank God for the artificial calm He gave me in that room so that I didn't break down as the doctor spoke to us.

Cystic hygroma. The doctor was not an expect on the topic (probably because the chances of having a cystic hygroma during pregnancy is 0.2-1%), so she promptly made us an appointment with a specialist at Texas Children's Hospital. I could hardly believe that our little baby was hardly twelve weeks old and already we were going to see a fetal specialist.

The genetic counselor explained in more detail what we already had researched after our first appointment. A cystic hygroma is the result of toxins being unable to leave the baby's body, so they form cysts (pockets of fluid beneath the baby's skin, like big blisters). Our baby's spans from its head to its butt, and the counselor counted about three of them. The cysts themselves are not the most alarming issue, although they can cause lethal stress to the baby. Rather, they are the result of an underlying, and oftentimes more serious, issue such as a chromosome disorder, a heart defect, a problem with the lymphatic system, or a recessive gene disorder. Each of these possibilities has its own host of statistics, none of which were positive.

What a surreal experience. I never thought that at twenty years old I would be sitting with my husband across a table from a lady telling us that there is a good chance our unborn baby will have Turner's Syndrome, Down Syndrome, Trisomy 18, Trisomy 16, or a fatal heart disorder. Of course, nobody expects for these times to come. As Gandalf wisely said to Frodo, "...so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to deide is what to do with the time that is given us."

Desperate for some kind of ray of hope, Ryan finally said to the genetic counselor, "Isn't there a possibility at all that something could just not be developed all the way? I mean, the baby is so small..." The lady nodded, "Yes, of course, it could be that something just has a kink in it, and as the baby grows it will correct itself and you'll have a perfectly healthy baby. But that is usually not the case with a cystic hygroma." So there it was. Our tiny, almost impossible chance.

Since that Tuesday, we have met life a day at a time. Some evenings after a tiring day or being nauseaus and having to explain to everyone that, "Yes, I am pregnant, but the baby has this problem..." I can only come home and burst into tears. Looking at that sweet baby's profile, it kills me to think that I may never get to hold it or kiss its cute little nose or get to know its wonderful personality. But I feel like I need to explain it to people. Maybe so that they understand a little better where I am coming from. Ryan and I are in a strange limbo where we love our baby more than anything, but we can't exactly expect to have a healthy baby. The list of possibilities looms dauntingly over our heads no matter how positive we choose to be. Ryan has been the best at this. He has his moments when it gets too heavy for him, too, but God has given him a strength that allows him to encourage me and to give me hope when I'm starting to lose it.

It's confusing becuase I don't know if I am to trust that God is going to answer my prayers with a resounding yes, or if I am to be assured with the promise that my baby is in His hands. Of course, I truly know that it is the second one, but knowing that the odds are against us takes my breath away. I have to cling to that promise that the Lord has our baby, and He is going to protect it no matter what. That, I do believe.

So now, we are waiting for the next two weeks to pass so we can go to the doctor and hear the heartbeat again. We look forward to that appointment with both hope and dread. Every day, I wonder if the baby is still alive inside me or if I've already lost it and don't know. Ryan and I desire to hear that heartbeat so badly! The Lord is definitely sustaining us, and our marriage has become stronger because of this period of trials we have been enduring. We know we are not worse off than most, so for that we are thankful. And we have each other, so whatever happens, we will be alright. :) The Lord is in control.

"Be strong, and let us fight bravely for our people and the cities of our God. The LORD will do what is good in his sight.”

2 Samuel 10:12

The Process of being Human

Two weeks ago today, I was standing on the other side of a door wearing a white dress, holding a bouquet, and wanting so badly to peek through the blinds to see my fiance standing at the other end of the aisle. 

Oh the adrenaline. Thankfully, I successfully walked down the aisle, under the gaze of 200 or so guests, without incident to meet the man who would soon become my husband. 

Jana Kay Photography

What a picture of beauty and perfection. Even with all of the little things that went wrong, no one could look at our wedding, at our union, and say that it was not a pleasing and good thing. God's will is always pleasing, good, and perfect (Rom. 12:2). On that day, I could feel God's mercy radiating down on me like never before, making me the happiest bride there ever was. :)

Fast forward two weeks.

People ask me how it feels to be married now... I tell them it is wonderful, and it is! Ryan and I sharpen one another, as  Proverbs 27:17 says, "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." In my last post, "Perfect Love", I talked about how unperfect we both are, and how the Lord uses that to continually make us more like Him.

Jana Kay Photography

This is a process that will endure until the day that we die. As Philippians 1:6 reads, "...[be] confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completiong until the day of Christ Jesus."

The trap is forgetting that this is an ongoing process. Unfortunately I didn't wake up the day after getting married to realize, "Oh my goodness, now I am the perfect wife!" Instead, what I have found is that I am completely and utterly HUMAN! And thus incapable of such perfection.
Well rats.

Wrong. I need to remember that it is a process that requires first transformation by the Lord and second continual renewing by the Holy Spirit. Messing up doesn't mean I have failed, it is merely a reminder that He who began a good work in me is still working on me! Thank God there is hope for me when I turn making spaghetti dinner into a three hour process!!

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Romans 12:2: "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - His good, pleasing, and perfect will."

Patterns of this world =  relying on myself to meet my needs. My needs are basically summed up by Genesis 3:16, "'...Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.'" I want Ryan to be happy. I want him to come home from work every day to a clean apartment, a delicious dinner, and a flawless wife, but I'm not perfect. (This is a shocker, I know.) I have to realize that Ryan's love for me, because it is grounded in Christ, will never fail, just as God's love and mercy never fail.

Saint Augustine beautifully explained it in these words, "Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it find its rest in thee." I can't be the perfect wife. I can't always be good or pleasing to Ryan. But both of us are constantly in the process of being renewed by the Holy Spirit, and because of that, we can find rest for our restless hearts. ♥

Jana Kay Photography

"In the Beginning"

"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty,; darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters."

So it begins.

Ever notice how the Bible starts? It doesn't begin with "In the beginning, there was nothing but God." It doesn't say that because nothing is something - nothing means the absence of something, and there was no absence of anything before the world was created. It was just God, and that was all that need be.

But then God decided to create something out of the lack of nothing. He chose to make something that did not need to be made, something that could only add to the existence of Himself. He made the world. He made us, you, me, that weird neighbor with all the cats, the coworker who is never to work on time.

Why?

What a question. There was a reason that God decided to make mankind, and it wasn't because He was bored. After creating the world and the animals, He said "This is good." When He got to man, He made him in his own image: the image of God, the creator, the one who was, is, and is to come because He never ends! What an amazing thing... To think that you are the image of the Lord.

It was completely intentional and practical. The world needed a caretaker, and the only one fit for the job was someone who could do the job that God does. Of course not to the same extent, but man was told to "be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground." God gave us everything, and He told us to take care of it.

Some days are rough and it feels like life is falling apart, but then there are those little things that make life spring up inside you. Like a small plant bursting through the soil towards the sunlight, these small things are reminders that we are to take care of what we have because we have been given it to care for. When blessed with so much beauty, the least we can do is take the responsibility of nurturing it. ♥

Of Time

"...I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it." - William Faulkner

Time. 
The only thing that can take forever and yet go as slowly as the drip on a leaky faucet. Seems as though Time is a frequent foe of mine, always trying to wrestle with my thoughts, choking or tantalizing my desires. Some moments, I wish Time would let me be. That I could escape to some small wrinkle in the universe where I could stand outside Time's grasp and see things from a perspective that isn't under its heavy influence. Time is supposed to heal all wounds, but right now I feel it is keeping them from healing. Scabs try to grow, and then Time rips them off again. 

Thoughts are strange things... So potent for either good or evil. Discipline and routine help keep thoughts in line, but Time may put thoughts into a nonsensical loop. An idea you had weeks ago might suddenly appear in your brain without any rabbit-trail to be seen. A thrill at some past event might race down your spine for no reason at all. Why does Time choose to touch us when we aren't giving thought to it at all?

The chief weapon of Time, I think, is temptation. It is tempting to want to conquer time, as Faulkner said. How many breaths have I wasted in attempting this futile task of wrestling with Time? As a Gold Motel's song goes, "I don't want to waste my time standing in a waiting line." Waiting requires the expenditure of diligence and patience, but the curious reality is that it also fosters those virtues as well. This said, to "conquer" Time, in a sense, the opposite effort must be put forth. To resist the urge to succumb to "what ifs," to keep from grabbing at those no-where thoughts and running with them. Holding onto a thread of something that should never have been resurfaced can be a dangerous, futile thing. Time sets forth the temptation to conquer itself, therefore the act of conquering it may be accomplished by laying down one's guns so to speak and resisting the fight.

I am speaking of Time as an ambiguous entity. True, Time is not a grandfatherly figure holding a large clock beyond the clouds. In many aspects, the person of Time may be closely related to God, who is both beyond time and deeply involved with it. On the opposite side of the spectrum, Time, in a temptation sort of way, may be recognized as the Devil. These analogies fail, however, when moving to the "solution" side of things.

God put Time into motion. He knows where it began and where it will end and all the small puzzle pieces we call our lives in between. Incredible. This is where God is not exactly Time, for Time is finite while God is infinite. In the Bible, God provides resources for combating our sinful desires (the Devil aspect of Time). It is this trait of Time, to sneak up on us with small nudges in one direction or another, that resembles the work of the Devil.  CS Lewis' famous character Screwtape said, “It is funny how mortals always picture us as putting things into their minds: in reality our best work is done by keeping things out.” By merely forgetting the weapons we have been given for fighting back sinful desires, the Devil can wage war within the heart of even the most devout believer. 

The Lord knows that we have trouble with this struggle, the struggle of bending Time to our wills. That's why Paul wrote in Romans, "It does not, therefore, depend on man's desire or effort, but on God's mercy." (9:16). Our desires often lean towards controlling the world around us, but this isn't a war we are to fight on our own. When a conflict exists within ourselves, it's easy to feel alone in it. Each battle is a weary one in which you destroy yourself. What Paul wanted us to realize though is that we are not alone. In fact, it is not by our works or merit at all but by the Lord's mercy. Micah, a country boy from a small village near Jerusalem, was charged with the task of foretelling Israel the consequences of their deviant behavior towards God. Near the end of his book, he cries out, "He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." With your God. 

We are not meant to fight this battle against Time alone. In fact, we aren't meant to fight it at all. Time is the Lord's, and He decides when it will build up nations and when it will bring them down. He decides what Time will do for me, and only be relying on that fact will I be released for the tyranny of Time's endlessness. If God is outside of Time, and God is inside of me, then there is a part of me that has the propensity to overcome Time. But I can't do it alone. Never alone.

The Waiting Game

Do you ever feel like you’re stuck in a rut? Like if only things were a certain way, everything would be better? There is something so depressing about being just out of reach of something. 

In our minds, we can imagine how things would be in our idealistic reality – even if we don’t expect perfection for our lives, even if we account for some uncomfortable or even difficult things, it’s still enough to drive us crazy when we can’t have what we want.

Today I was sulking about something and whining to myself that I am such a martyr for enduring this torture of not getting what I want. After all, I am a pretty good person.

That’s when I started laughing at myself.

A particular story from the Bible jumped into my head – one with Abraham and his son, Isaac. Abraham had direct instructions from the Lord that were clear-cut and without much of an explanation. “Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about.” Can you imagine anything more horrifying than sacrificing your beloved child?? I can’t begin to comprehend the pain and conflict that Abraham must have gone through. He loved Isaac more than his own life. Isaac was the promised son that he had waited decades to hold in his arms, and now God required his life as an offering.

Do you think Abraham wanted to kill his son? Of course he didn’t! But he trusted that God knew what He was doing when He asked such a momentous task. Although Abraham probably felt a sick twist in his gut as he climbed that mountain, he kept on going, not even letting on to Isaac as to the true purpose of their journey.

Aaaaand then there’s me. My problems seem so trivial in comparison, yet I do not have the faith to trust that the Lord has planned my life out for my own good! Perhaps things are not going the way I would like for them to, but I don’t have the big picture in front of me. 

Rather than accept this period as a time for waiting, my impulsive, do-it-yourself nature wants to jump in there and “get ‘er done”. In fact, that’s exactly how Abraham acted before Isaac was born! Although the Lord had said he would have a son, he went and married a handmaiden in addition to the childless wife he already had. The result was two half brothers who would be at odds for generations to come.

I think he learned a valuable lesson from that experience that I can take from as well.

Right now, I may not see what’s around the corner for me. That may get under my skin. It may make me want to scream to the heavens, but that is the way it should be. Us trusting that He will take care of us always. God doesn’t let us have the things we want simply because we act a certain way or because we do things in such a way that we consider ourselves “good people”. In actuality, there is no such person.

There is a time for everything. A time to trust, a time to hope, and a time to wait.

Faith, Trust, and Holding Things Up

What are the things we believe in? Not the spiritual entities or the religious rules exactly, but the simple, everyday objects and concepts upon which we thoroughly rely. Perhaps sometimes we don’t do it consciously, but we put our lives into these inanimate objects without so much as a questioning glance. Things like cars, roofs, mankind’s ability to stop at red lights, the purity of our drinking water, or simply the chairs we sit in. We have complete and utter faith in the things we can see, touch, feel with our hands. Why then is it so difficult to put this very basic trust into the hands of the One who gave us our very breath?

I think we are obsessed with the things we see. So much so, that whenever something is not in front of our eyes, we have a hard time believing that it is actually there. If you have ever heard the phrase, “I’d have to see it to believe it,” or, “Seeing is believing,” it is evident that the majority of society thinks along these lines. After all, you are the best judge…right?

See, when we get to a place where we have set ourselves up on so high a pedestal that we consider ourselves the ultimate authority (which is laughable compared to reality), we have to move God from that position first. Like the subconscious act of placing faith in a folding chair, we nudge God over and try to hold up the roofs in our lives on our own. The problem is, when God sees our pathetic struggle for control and decides to let us have a taste of our own medicine, things immediately begin to shake. When God stops being the support beams, the whole structure comes crashing down, and we are left in the midst of the broken rubble that was the life we had tried to create ourselves.

That and the realization that our strength alone is not strong enough.

We’ve all been there. Like a disobedient child who has just brought the whole tray down on top of her head, we sit in a heap on the floor, crying because of our brokenness and because the consequences hurt.

But this is the best part.

This is when Daddy comes into the room. At first we feel a little scared because…well, it’s Daddy! He’s the boss, the judge, the maker-or-breaker of our days. He has the authority to inflict punishment and the ability to extend forgiveness.

He looks around at what we have done, seeing the mess, seeing our tears, but choosing not to pay them any heed because He only truly sees one thing. Our hearts and everything Jesus came to save, everything He created to be perfect and beautiful. Everything He loves about us.

That’s when Daddy picks us up, dusts us off, and after giving us a big hug, reminds us to listen to His words. “Now then, my children,” He says, “listen to Me; blessed are those who keep My ways. Listen to My instruction and be wise; do not ignore it. I know that you aren’t perfect, though you always try to be, and that you will fail every time you attempt to go off alone. But I do not look at these things, the things that man looks at. Instead, I look at your heart, which is Mine and which I dearly love. I paid the highest price imaginable for it, so I want you to take care of it. Trust me. I know what My plans are for you, and they are all for your own good.”

Drop whatever you’re doing right now. Just do it.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and give it all to Jesus. Forget all the clichés, ignore what others would say or think, just stop trying to hold everything together because you can’t do it. You were not meant to carry things all on your own. Talk to Him, and give Him the reins. Then you will truly discover (or rediscover) the joy that is life. J

a Gift, a Promise, a Notion

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand."

Romans 5:1-2

 a gift

   a promise

     a notion

  

The reality of it is mind-blowing.
What we did deserved severe punishment of the highest degree -- eternal torture and ceaseless agony. That was the prescribed retribution, after all. The rules were laid out plain and simple, just like they were for Adam and Eve. Don't do this. What did we do? We did that.

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Our parents told us not to lie. We pointed fingers when someone broke Mom's favorite picture frame. They told us not to steal. We found it acceptable to slip a piece of candy from our siblings' stockings at Christmastime when no one was looking.
These may seem like minor misdemeanors, but in truth they are mere indicators of a larger problem at work: our lives bare the tell-tale footprints of sin.
We have to be honest, our lives are messed up. Even if we get everything to look perfect on the outside, there has to be something ugly happening on the inside. Truth is, we will never get it all right, and that is the greatest curse of our existence.
BUT, (and it is a very large "but" because this verse was not intended to induce depression), we were spared the punishment. By no small miracle, it was made as though there never was any sin in the first place. Someone absolutely perfect in every way, by very nature incapable of deviating from God's plan one iota, took the battle I should have fought. He was bruised; He was shamed. BUT, He was not beaten.

http://pinterest.com/pin/429741989412769413/

Through blood and tears, He arose victorious. The sin forgotten and constantly excused. What deserves grace such as this? We spit in the face of the one who gave us everything, and instead of letting the hammer of justice fall where it may, He extended a pardon of mercy. Crazy, unexplainable love fueled the perpetual forgiveness of a misdeed that should have deserved hell.

Now, I have just one question for you: How could we possibly not grant one another that same mercy?

Almost Down and Out

Dear Diary, 24 July 2012

Almost down and out...

I never truly felt the gravity of the phrase "you never know what you have until it's gone". Still, I am ill acquainted with its full potential but only by shear grace and supernatural fortune. Regardless, I feel as though life has been dealing me a serious of minor blows, all of which add up to one major force that has swept me off my feet. 

In such a skirmish, one cannot lower one's guard. You either keep up, or you are swept under and trampled. Unfortunately, life does not deal in black and white absolutes day to day although it is ultimately governed by similar laws. It is cruel, isn't it? To have psychological answers for the heart but never any way to mend the hurts with a single cure?

After a period of accepting these underhanded punches, I fell down to the canvas and heard the referee begin counting.

1, 2, 3...

My head swam, and the floodgates burst. Finally, it all came rushing to the surface, every single hurt I had stifled (or attempted to, rather) within an already swollen heart in the past few weeks. One thing after another, even those which I had forgotten, flowed down my cheeks, mingled with sweat as I pushed myself to outrun my woes. But pain is not something that you can run away from.

...4, 5, 6...

Tears streaming, I felt my heart break in two like never before. Cries of injustice, yes. Sobs of teenage angst, I was well acquainted with. This, though...this was a scream that I had never dared release before. A demand I had always feared I might exclaim. Why? With every tear and every throb of my almost physical ache, I shot the question into the heavens.

...7, 8, 9...

Why, God? Why did you let him die? She loved him so much, and this is hurting their family so! How could you let someone like him die? Why are you letting her slip away? She lived; she thrived; she pushed others to do the same. How could you take her from me in this way? From all of us? Everyone needs her still, you cannot take her, too. She has people who depend on her, love her. They need her. We need her. Don't let them leave us. Now that we've come to love them, why would you take them away? Why are you putting all of this on me?

I have a plan and a purpose that is greater than you and all the other people down there on earth with you. It may look like atrocity in your eyes, but the ultimate result is going to be pure beauty. You don't have to understand when I tell you this, and I know that so long as you're apart from me, you'll never truly grasp the concept. But I feel every single thing you go through, and I won't leave you through any of it. As for the others, there is a time for everything. To you, it may seem cruel taking them from your world, but in reality, it was their time to go to where they are created to be. Trust me.

The ref never got to 10.

Suddenly, I saw how fragile, how temporary mortal life is. Everything withers, dies, fades away. What's the only thing that remains? A hope that when you're brought down, face on the floor, blood streaming from your nose, you'll be able to get up before the count reaches 10. In the end, it won't be that you fought that people will remember, it'll be the fact that you stayed in the game. Stay in there and when the fight is over, you'll come out on top whether you ate dirt or held your own. 

Fearful of pain, my whole life I've lived in anticipation that all the goodness that I have will disappear. Well...it's going to. Some of it is leaving me right now. But that doesn't mean that all is lost. "When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window." He doesn't test us beyond our limits, and He always provides a release, a way of escape. 

A savior.

Maybe the secrets of life can't be unlocked with a single key, but they can be reconciled by the promise that whenever we stumble through pain, there's always going to be a light at the end of the tunnel. For now, that's enough for me to keep me going.

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