Catch up on Day 2

Happy day two of 7in7!


Writers have been busy today! Here’s all the great words they’ve been willing to share:

Jamie Ivey: Tierra’s Sparkle is Working for Her

Amanda Allen: Single People

Shannon Frawley: Hate the Leaves

Ashley Andreano: The Second Day

My post: the story of my day

Val Vance: Casting West Wing

Sarah Drinka: A Man of Practical Gifts

Nikki McDonell: A Different Kind of Love Story

Mindy Dixon: Broken by Sin

Annie Lent: A Whole Lot of Nothing

Courtenay Barclay: If your Life was a Book…

 [I’m still waiting to hear from Melanie Kowalik/Amanda Brown/Anna – anyone else??]

3 thoughts on “Catch up on Day 2

  1. 2 of 7

    Dear Friend,

    We’ve known each other for a long time now. Twenty years to be exact. We’ve walked through the fires of hell together. Or more like you walked through them as I helplessly watched, with no words but “I love you” and “I’m sorry.”

    We were too young to understand. Too young to trust the One who took her. Afterwards I asked Him questions. “Why then? Decades after she was diagnosed? Months before we donned our caps and gowns and said ‘goodbye’ to innocence and ‘hello’ to the world?” I didn’t understand it then. I don’t understand it now.

    These past ten years, the world has not been kind to you. I’ve heard about it from another who’s known you as long as I have, the third of our Three Musketeers. You’ve given up. You’ve lost the fight. Your body splayed out on the cold, hard ground – you let them slap you and pummel you again and again, as if it makes no difference at all. I know that’s not where you want to be – surrendered on the blood-streaked floor, broken body, broken spirit, broken heart. But you lie there anyway. Perhaps pain is better than nothingness. And happiness is not an option.

    How I long to run to you and tell you, “No more! Don’t you see?! It’s not over yet! We can still fight!” But I have no voice. I lost it when I moved away. And the third Musketeer says you won’t listen anyway. Your hardness of heart breaks hers.

    I want you to know that I understand. The world is a cruel, uncaring place. Tragedy is humanity’s bedfellow, and She struck you harder than most. How you kept breathing in those weeks after, I do not know. Maybe this is why you do it – to numb the ache, to fill the gap, to feel like you’re in control again.

    Do you miss those days when all was well? I do. I miss the treasure hunts and dance routines. Playing with your dog and making up stories. I miss Disneyland and Universal and movies at theater with your cousins. But more than anything, I miss you. I miss the fighter, the believer, the dreamer, the one who looked the world in the eyes and said, “There is hope. There is always hope.”

    Come back to us! Trust in Truth once more! It won’t be long until you see your mom again. And you will dive into each others’ arms and laugh and skip and sing. Oh, you will sing such glorious duets! You will sing the praises of our Savior, who endured the greater suffering when He hung there on a cross. You will sing to the one who suffered through a death He didn’t deserve, so that you can live life the fullest! That very Savior will look you in the eyes and you will know. You will know why He took your mom when He did. In a fraction of moment, it will all make sense. And all that hole in your heart will be no more.

    I pray that you see toward that day, that you believe for that day, that you trust in the One who has bought you that day with His life. I pray you tell the pummelers to stop and grab hold of your Savior’s hand. He’s whispering to you. He’s telling you to rise up, cast the demons aside, and walk forward into something better. And when I hear of that day, my heart will rejoice. I will praise God that the words sung at her funeral are true:

    “Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.”

    Love you forever,


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *