And Death Shall Be No More, Death, Thou Shalt Die

This phrase is the ending line to a poem by John Donne that is one of my favorites and also the meditative thought flowing through the movie "Wit" starring Emma Thompson. During Eastertide, a season of the liturgical year I usually pay no mind to, I have been reflecting on resurrection and the death of death quite a bit. Easter this year has renewed significance. The death of a close friend makes the resurrection of the dead not just a far off thought, but an earnest hope and longed for reality. I have to believe that Christ really did rise from the dead and that through faith in him those who believe will also be resurrected.

I first sat down to write this blog the Monday after Easter. Life got in the way and I lost the words that had weighed so heavily on my mind as I sat in chapel that Monday morning and rejoiced in the truth and hope of the resurrection. Many things have happened since that Easter Monday. Eastertide is nearing its end and I am forced to reflect on another tragedy. This one is close to home in a different way than Lee's death. A member of my home church, husband of one of my high school leaders and mentors, father of children I grew up with and at one time or another called friend, was involved in a murder-suicide about 24 hours ago. A man, in whose house I spent a good amount of time my freshman and sophomore years of high school, snapped and shot both of his in-laws before killing himself hours later. His father-in-law died right away. His mother-in-law was airlifted to a hospital in Seattle where she later died. Such a tragic event causes one to think about what pushes a seemingly gentle and quiet man to the point of murder. As I mourn and grieve for and with the family, I have to believe in the power of the resurrection. I have to believe in the restoration and reconciliation that was accomplished in and through Jesus Christ. Without such a foundation, events such as these are completely meaningless and I am lost. I cannot even begin to fathom the pain and confusion that the family must be experiencing. My heart aches for them. I can only hope and pray that God comforts them in this very difficult time.

I also hope and pray that my year begins to become more boring soon. Too much has happened this year for my liking. I can't handle this much tragedy and heartache. It is hard for me to trust that God is only giving me what I can bear, because I don't really feel like I can bear any of this. I guess that's just it, isn't it? He gives us what we can bear, but we need his help to bear it. While I wrestle with yet another tragic event, I look to the truth in the words, "Death, thou shalt die." This is my hope and comfort. God has won the victory and in him I trust.

As the Year Comes to a Close

I honestly cannot believe that next Tuesday marks the end of my first year in seminary. The time cannot have gone so quickly. It feels like yesterday that I was pulling up alongside Brown Hall in a rented car packed full of stuff, tired after a 10-day road trip full of fun and adventure with my mom and the various friends and family visited along the way, as well as nervous about what the year was going to hold. Questions were flying through my brain crashing into each other as I wrestled to find answers that would take away the nerves. What would the people be like? Would I do well in class? Will I survive grad school? Do I have what it takes? Will I meet any cute boys? You know, the usual questions when facing a new situation. I am happy to say that the answers I have to those initial questions are all positive. The people are, on the whole, fantastic. I have done well in class, perhaps not as well as I would have liked, but well enough. So far I have survived grad school, which makes me believe that I have what it takes. And yes, I have met some cute boys and yes, there is one in particular who caught my eye and whose eye I somehow caught as well.

While those thoughts and worries seem to have been consuming my mind quite recently, it also seems as though a lifetime stands between me and that first nervous day of unpacking and meeting the people I would be spending the next three years with. I am a different person than the one who first came into Brown 404 on that sunny morning of September 15. My life plans have changed since coming here. I am changing denominations in order to pursue ordination. I am considering the possibilities of overseas missions in Africa. I have fallen in love. I have lost a very dear friend. I have made friendships that will last forever. I have become an aunt. I have road tripped to Tennessee and back. I have laughed and I have cried. I have yelled and I have been yelled at. I have forgiven and I have been forgiven. I have argued and I have praised. I have taken friends to the hospital and I have been taken by friends to the hospital. I have comforted and I have been comforted. As I reflect on all that this year has held, I am amazed at what eight months can hold and how they can irrevocably change one's life. I haven't changed enough to no longer recognize the young woman who was full of nerves and questions, but enough to say that my life is different than it was. It seems strange to me that a year ago at this time I was preparing to graduate college and was facing the unknowns of post-college life. That seems like light-years ago.

Overall, I am thankful for what this year has held and the changes it has wrought. There are definitely experiences I wish I could have done without. I wish I could be writing this knowing that Lee was going to read it. I wish life had a little more certainty right now. However, even as I say that, I am reminded that life is completely certain because of who God is. I know that I don't walk through life alone. I walk it with the God who has conquered death. I have been born into a living hope that is grounded in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. I have no reason for worry, but only to cast that on the God who cares for me. Granted this is all easier to say than to actually put into practice, but it is good to remind myself on a regular basis and let go of my white-knuckled grip on the trunk full of worries and uncertainties and my need for control.

Missing You... (A Note for Lee)

Today I missed you. I missed you a lot. This week was the Institute for Youth Ministry that we had talked about you coming to so that you could visit me and meet all my friends. I had forgotten about that conversation and the excitement of your coming until the first day of the conference, which also happened to be the two month anniversary of your passing. I hate that you are gone. I miss you so much. It hurts to know that I will never get to see you again until that day I stand before our Lord with you. Though I know that I will see you again, it barely helps to dull the pain. I wish I could see you right now. I wish I could call you and tell about my life. I wish you could have commanded me to get better when I had bronchitis. I wish you could have helped me think through my systematic paper. I wish you could have told me I was crazy for saying I wasn't going to do well on it. I wish you could have given me your "I told you so" talk when I did do well on it. I wish you could have come to IYM. I wish we could have listened to Shane Claiborne speak and then have coffee afterward to talk about what we agreed with and what we disliked. I wish you could have met Henry and Ashton and all of my other friends. I wish you could have intimidated a certain person :). I wish we could play frisbee golf and go swing dancing. I wish I could call you right now and tell you everything I am going through. It's not fair that you left so early. I know I am selfish for wanting to have you here in this broken world rather than in the marvelous light of the kingdom, but this life made more sense and was easier to navigate when I had you here to walk through it with. Now all I have is the memories of our friendship and the adventures we shared. All I can do is hope that those memories do not fade and that the memory of how you lived your life and the guidance you gave me helps to continue to give me direction. I am thankful for the love you showed and the wisdom you passed on during the time I got to spend with you. I am thankful for you friend and I will always miss you.