You start now.

I read an article today on Ryot News that tugged at my heart strings. It has me begging you to think about these questions.

Can we please not wait until someone is gone to tell them how we feel?
Can we please not wait until we receive a terminal prognosis to really live life?
Can we say what we mean, be intentional with our relationships, and live to inspire right now, before it's too late?
Why is that article so moving for the readers?
Why do we think we are invincible?

We aren't.
We aren't guaranteed the next day for ourselves or our loved ones.
Don't let that paralyze you with fear, but let it push you to live, and live fully.
Life is fragile, and there is so much to be done.
So much that you can do, that you were made specifically for.
You are a precious gem.
You are cherished and loved and appreciated and made for so much more.
So is your neighbor.
And your barista.
And that family member that you severed ties with.
And your ex.
And that person in authority.
We all matter.
We all can make a difference.
We all have different talents that if we bonded together instead of scoffed and compared, we could be an unstoppable force.

So, where do you start?
You start with the now.
With the conversation you are currently having with your coworker while you read this.
You start by how you interact with your grumpy toddler.
With the mail man or solicitor that just rung the doorbell and woke your napping baby.
You can trace back your actions to a thought to a lie that you believed and combat it with truth.
You become intentional about taking EVERY thought captive.
The ones you have standing in front of your mirror or in an interview at work.
The ones that tell you that you aren't good enough.
Because you are.
If you fail, you get up, silence the doubt, and try again.
By silencing the doubt and combating negativity, you win.
By realizing that you are winning, you naturally want to help others succeed.
By helping others succeed, you are really living.

Let it be Love

Let love by your driving force.
Correction, Discipline, Acceptance, Self-Examination, Conversations, Actions, Thoughts, Words, Blog Posts, Articles, To-Do Lists, Relaxation.
Let it all be governed and purposed from love.

Correction of my 3 year old then becomes guiding her in a positive direction that will increase the happiness and productivity of our home.

Discipline becomes a form of teaching instead of the product of anger.

Acceptance of others is not pressured by the opinion of others, but merely an act of love to see all people with potential.

Self-Examination becomes less of battling inner demons and more of realizing the power behind what I am capable of doing.

Conversations become uplifting even if venturing to vulnerable caves.

Actions become a sort of song that carries from one person to another until completion.

Thoughts have the opportunity to not be wasted idly, but burn like fuel to a fire.

The end result has immeasurable possibilities when the beginning is love.

Just try it

"I don't know how to pray."
"You know how you are talking to me? You just talk to Him. He loves to hear your prayers."

So simple. Why do we over-complicate things as adults?

Talk to Him. He wants to hear your thoughts. He doesn't care about your grammar or whether you can even get a full sentence out through sobs. He wants to be with you. WITH you. It's your communion with Him that He desires. It's the nature of your heart that is important to Him. When you are washing dishes or filling out the report at work, or changing a diaper, or driving to school, or watching the news, or studying for a test.

If I only ever came to you and asked you to do things for me, we wouldn't have a great friendship. He already knows how you work and what you are thinking, but he wants you to want to share them with Him. I absolutely love when Sweetness starts off her stories with "Momma, I want to tell you sumpen". She crawls in my lap and tell me the adventures she had at school, or the people who were mean to her, or the fun things she accomplished. I want to be a part of her world. I want to be the one she confides in.

God desperately desires friendship with you. He doesn't want it because He needs it, because God isn't lacking in anything. However, He loves you more than you can possibly imagine. He wants you to crawl in His lap, sit at His feet, run to Him, laugh with Him. He wants to hear your adventures, hold you while you cry, and hear you express what makes your heart beat. He desires to celebrate with you, shower you with gifts, and fill you with more love, peace, compassion, joy, patience and fiery passion so that you are overflowing and don't know what to do with the excess. Then He wants to talk with you casually as you go about your day and show you the people that need that excess of love that you are overflowing with. He wants to bless and He wants you to bless others.

This all starts with just talking to Him. Don't complicate it. He loves you. He wants to hear from you. He wants to hear your voice. He thinks you are beautiful, talented, smart, important, and so worthy of His attention.

Talk to Him. Simply, talk to Him.
Try it. Try talking to Him without asking Him for anything. Try just saying thank you. Try listening for His voice. Try sitting and just thinking about all the ways you love someone and multiplying that by 3 billion and try to accept that He loves you more than that.

Just try it.

Unpopular Regression

As I was leaving the building, I could see she was struggling with holding her phone, the baby, her keys, the diaper bag and what looked like some sort of play mat. I darted back to the daycare door to catch it in time before it locked. As I opened the door, I smiled and she pushed past me into the building with no thank you or even a smile in return for my efforts.

"As unto the Lord. Work as unto the Lord." I repeated in my brain as I got back in my car. I'm sure my face was beet red with embarrassment. I felt like such an idiot. Why did I not just play it cool? I could have just walked out and let the door shut. I didn't have to seem like such a desperate overachiever.

Wait. Why am I chastising myself? I did what was right. Why am I not irritated at that girl? She was the unappreciative one. But I felt nothing towards her but embarrassment. I was instantly transported back to the awkward girl in high school walking past the popular group. I cared so much about what she thought of me, this random pretty stranger, that I was the one uncomfortable when she was rude. 

Hello, old doormat version of myself, I haven't seen you in a while. 

Isn't it crazy how fast we can revert to old ways? It was so easy for me in that moment to feel so uncomfortable and judged. Not that getting irritated at her was the correct way to feel, but it seems more normal in my mind. Whatever that normal word means anyway.

Ephesians 6:7 

"Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord not people." 

Colossians 3:23 

"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men" 

Galatians 1:10 

"For do I now persuade men, or God? or do I seek to please men? for if I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ."

I did what was right, but what matters to God more than the work I did is my heart behind the work. Something rose up in me in that moment. As long as I am in this body, there will be obstacles and trials that stir something to rise up. Will goodness and mercy be the first things that rise? In the moments that my flesh rises up first, will I quiet them with gentleness? Will I confidently respond by extending grace to those who are undeserving? Afterall, it was undeserved grace that allows me to live and be free.

The world needs grace something fierce. We have the incredible opportunity to soak in the grace meant for us and extend the overflow of that to the people we interact with.

Live your life. Walk confidently. Speak boldly.

The Creator's opinion is the only one that matters, and he loves that pretty lady more than I understand. Accept grace for yourself and delight in extending grace to others.

You won't regret it. 

I get to be me.

"Did you play sports in high school?"

This question excited me. For a couple minutes I reminisced those fun days and shared stories and stats. I tried to find some pictures, but I couldn't in the limited amount of time I had. I used to be a good athlete. I wasn't the best on the team, but I held my own. Regardless of skill, I loved it. It was my favorite part of high school.

"Wow, I can't imagine you being fast," he says as he burst into a fit of laughter, "I bet your high school self is just looking at you disappointed. How are you not more athletic and active right now?"

Wow. Well, hello there Mr. Tact. My first thought was that I was definitely eating a salad for lunch. My second thought was that I had to come up with some response that didn't include sarcasm or insecurity.

In the best way I could, I explained that my life is different now. My priorities have changed. My schedule is busier in a completely different way. I have responsibilities of my husband, home, daughter, dog, job, friends, and my awesome church. I love my life. Are there ways that it could be better? Are there things that I want to improve on? Are there things I miss about being in shape, active, and playing sports? Yes to all. But would I trade my daughter for a bikini body? Not a chance. Would I trade my husband and my home to play competitive sports? No, of course not. Is God continually doing a work in me about my appearance and what is important to Him? Yes, but it's not success if I achieve my goals through a spirit of defeat, envy, or for any other wrong motive.

I want to take care of my body because it is the temple of the Holy Spirit, not because of what I used to be or because I have to live up to today's standards of beauty.

So I will take this conversation as a test.
My patience was tested.
My response was tested.
My heart was tested.
My love was tested.
My journey will continue to be tested as I grow and mature to be more like Jesus.

Because that is what I want. I want to be like Jesus.
If I am never a size 4...but I love the unlovable, I will be happy.
If I never have a bikini body again...but I get to bring comfort to those around me, I will be happy.

I have incubated life.
I have survived a crazy and fun life, and have not been torn down by misery.
I am thriving.
I have joy that doesn't depend on my size, my activity levels, or my status on this earth.

I don't have to live up to who I used to be. I've already surpassed her. I get to be me.

What do you want to be?

"What do you want be when you grow up, Sweets?"
"I no know, maybe just have gum?"
"You just want to be able to chew gum?"
"Yeah I think so. That would be awesome."

I remember growing up and thinking that if I HAD to pick something to be when I grew up that I guess I would be a teacher because I love kids. I never had a clear goal of wanting to be a doctor or businesswoman. I just wanted to be a mom. So when I was asked, saying 'teacher' seemed like the correct response because at least I would be working with kids.

So it was no shock for me to hear the simple response from my Sweetness. She just wants to do the next thing. I wish I thought more like that. I wish that I slowed down sometimes to just be and hear and do the thing right in front of me. Usually, I like to know what's ahead so I can plan accordingly. Plan for road blacks, delays, or to try to get the best angle on a situation. Why not be prepared, right?

My brain spins and spins constantly of how I can accomplish the most of my list in the least amount of time with the sharpest accuracy.

I think there is a treasure to being prepared sometimes. But I also think that it can get in the way of the now, the being, the existing, the tasting and seeing that the Lord is good.

I want Sweetness to be. I want her to just be present. To take in life, to love people well. I don't want her to narrow down to only one occupation. I don't want her to focus solely on becoming one thing. I want her to believe she can do anything. And I think it starts by changing the questions I ask her. To do that I need to change the way I think so that I can begin to ask different questions.

Not, what do you want to be when you grow up, but what do you want to be, right now? What do you want to be known and remembered for? What legacy and memory are you leaving behind with each interaction you have?

How do we, practically, breed contentment and thankfulness in our kids while still fanning the flame of hope and and a passion to accomplish great things?

The only answer I have, the one that I lean and meditate on, the answer that provides peace in a grief-stricken, violent, selfish world is John 15:4.

"Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me."

It's backwards from an achievement-motivated world.
To grow you have to remain.
Stay, meditate, listen, love, remain.

The Big Beginning: Part One

I woke up nervous. I rose early with Sweetness as the normal routine kicked in. But this day was anything but normal. Making Blueberry muffins was the perfect distraction from the nerves fluttering in my stomach. I could only take a few bites of the muffins before my appetite disappeared in a flash.

The morning was flying by so quickly. The clock seemed to skip over entire half hours at a time. I was rushed and slightly unorganized but trying to take in every moment before our lives changed. I wanted to text him. Could I? Was that against the rules? I thought against it and sat down to write him a letter instead. The paper stared at me blankly, almost taunting me in a way. How could I write down everything I wanted to say to the one who makes me speechless? How could I capture all of the ways that this was one of the best days of my life? I wrote what I'm sure was a blubbering mess, and put it in a safe place so I wouldn't forget it.

My dear friend Nikki was so helpful with setting up for the wedding and helping me take care of Sweetness both the day before and morning of. It was so wonderful to have someone there who has been through the crazy bumps that we have been through together. She helped avert my attention from the nerves and keep me focused, but she also let me be giddy and excited. She asked me questions, made me laugh, and helped make me feel so special. I love that girl.

We turned on the news to make sure the weather was still planning on being kind to me that day. And because I have a BIG God who loves me, the bright yellow sun was scheduled to shine all day. What a relief! Nikki laughed and pointed out that the news was highlighting wedding bloopers. Really? On the morning of my wedding, the news wants to highlight all of the funny and horrible things that could possibly happen? Of course they would. So I just took it as a sign to let go of all expectations and be at ease with whatever happened. It was hilarious to watch all of the videos and we just prayed nothing crazy like that would happen for me. Having that mindset made it a lot easier when later my brother leaned over during pictures to ask me, "did you hear what happened with the queso?". No, I didn't hear about the queso, to which he responded, "nevermind then." I was too wrapped in enjoying all of my family and friends being there to care.

I felt so taken care of all day long. My fantastic friend Keeley, and my sisters made sure that I had coffee, snacks, and that I was comfortable. I didn't want to eat, but I was told I wasn't allowed to have my coffee unless I ate something, so banana and oatmeal it was. Keeley didn't want me passing out during the ceremony. What a party pooper, right? She would totally be laughing at me if I did, but she would also be one of the first people there to help me up. I love that girl, too.

Getting ready was a nice calm moment of the day. My talented big sister, Coral, fixed my hair and makeup. It was a special moment for me, almost as if mom was there just through Coral and I being present in that moment. Staring at my no filter, no make up, morning monster reflection while getting pampered was a challenge, however. It goes against several things that make me feel uncomfortable. My sister, Lindsey, was taking pictures that I truly cherish, but no one really wants to see those. Ha! I never had to worry though. Everyone from the little kiddos, as well as my friends and family all made me feel beautiful and so special.

Before our first look, I heard Jacob's voice outside of the room I was getting ready in. My nerves instantly doubled. He was there. So close. I wanted to run to him. I wanted a big hug. I wanted to see his face and look into his kind eyes. But I had to wait, so I leaned on the door frame, closed my eyes, and just listened to his laugh and the chaos of everyone getting everything ready. There was something so perfect about that moment. Looking back on it now, I remember it as the last time of longing. The last moment that I would be waiting for one of my best dreams to come true. In just a few hours that man would be my husband.

Those pesky nerves seemed to triple by the minute before our first look. I was led outside where I first saw his shadow on the ground. It's crazy how much the shadow of someone can impact your emotions on a day like that day. I reached around the fence to hold his hand while Coral and Lindsey took more pictures. As we set up for the big reveal,  I couldn't breathe. I just wanted him to see me all dressed up, ready to be his bride. Would he like the dress, or my hair? Was I wearing too much make up, or not enough? So many thoughts, memories, and nerves flooded my system as I walked towards him and grabbed his arm.

When he turned around, I stood for a moment unable to make eye contact, a fragile statue afraid that if I moved I might crack or burst into tears. Finally, I mustered the confidence to look up. The next few moments were in slow motion as I took in how handsome the love of my life looked, and how he was looking at me. That smile, the ways his eyes lit up. He took a step back to see my dress and my nerves disappeared. I was just happy to be there with him in that moment. Just like the lyrics of the song that played as I walked down the aisle say, "In a room full of people, everything else disappears." It was just him and me. Perfection.

The next hour and a half flew by in a rush of hugs, tears, kisses, and precious memories being made as we took family pictures and finished getting ready for the ceremony. Since our family was expanding, we resolved to take some pictures before and some after the ceremony. Everyone looked so beautiful and handsome and cute and perfect. Everyone was so happy and friendly. Pictures were taken, a ton of hugs were given out, and as we separated for the big beginning, all of my nerves were gone. I felt nothing but pure bliss and thankfulness to be marrying my answer to prayer. So many people that we loved and cherished were all gathered in one place to celebrate our love and the joining of our lives together. There were also several people who didn't get to come, but showed their love and support from the distance. We felt so overwhelmed with love and blessings from all of those who cared for us.

I went inside to freshen up and make sure that everything was in place, packed for the road, and made sure everything was presentable. Those few moments inside were the perfect time to take deep breaths and remember all of the things that had led up to that moment. Some were sad and I thanked God for His Sovereignty and comfort. Some memories were so happy that I almost starting crying before the ceremony began. I walked out into the living room and saw our officiate and dear friend, Beau. He was so excited and prayed with us before we walked outside to say, "I Do".

This was it. This was the big beginning. And it was happening now.

It's a mom thing

Crying from the other room.

My bed is so warm. 

Do I have to get up? 

What time is it? 

I have to pee.

Louder crying. 

The Mr. stirs. 

Gotta get up before she wakes him. 

Trip over the pup. 

She needs to pee. 

I need to pee. 

Get the crying one first.

Loves and hugs and calming deep breaths. 

Turn on a show.

Pour chocolate milk.

I still need to pee. 

Trip over the pup. again.

Oh, right, you need to pee. 

Put on the leash.
Grab my jacket.
Slip on the Mr's shoes by the door.

Explain 34 times to the little one that I am in fact coming back after I let the pup out.
Oh golly, it's freezing. 

Go back inside.

Feed the pup.

I still need to pee.

In the same frame

Dish Network has a commercial in circulation right now. A teenager is standing on the door step of his home arguing with his dad about not wanting to go to a family member's house. Apparently, Aunt Judy doesn't have tv so this poor unfortunate high school boy is forced against his will to actually interact with his family members. Isn't it cruel that his dad wants to spend time with him and other family?

The pinnacle of the commercial is when the dish network kangaroo appears. The kangaroo hands the boy his cell phone and assures him that he can sit in the corner and not interact with anyone exactly like he wanted. What a nice kangaroo.

It's so obvious to me what is wrong with this picture, but are my actions as obvious to others?
Am I catching the areas I'm prideful in? Or am I stuck in the same place making the same decisions.

Unanswered Prayers

A mass of hungry people had just been fed by the Great Teacher. What started with 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish had overflowed into baskets as leftovers. The people all were amazed with what Jesus had done. In their excitement and passion for the Miracle Maker, they intended on making Jesus their King. Jesus knew this, so he withdrew to the mountain to be by himself. (John 6:15)

It's funny how you can hear the same story over and over and miss certain parts. This hit me like a ton of bricks the other day. The people saw the miracles and heard the teaching of Jesus and they were amazed. They had found their Savior, "the true Prophet who is to come into the world!" The one they had been waiting for! They had the best intentions and admiration for Jesus. Miracles had been performed, the thick cloud of judgment was being lifted, and was replaced by teachings and parables of grand love. They wanted to give Him the highest honor that they knew how by making Him king. Can you blame them?

I don't know about you, but that sounds a lot better than being stripped down, humiliated, beaten, wrongfully accused, and crucified by those very same people who previously wanted to exalt you as King. In my flesh I am found thinking, "You should have taken the offer when you had it." But Jesus, in His perfect Sovereignty, knew what had to be done in order to save the whole world. He made the more unpopular and difficult, but ultimately the best decision that had to be made. And it came completely out of the over-abundant love that He has for us.

How many times have I prayed and analyzed whether I had enough belief to make it happen? I can't know what God's will is, and I know that He longs for us to take things to Him in prayer. I know He longs for communication and relationship versus just plain rule following. I love that about Him. I wonder how many unanswered prayers were because I wasn't asking the right question; how many He was ultimately choosing something greater for me that I couldn't see or understand in that moment?

There are some prayers that I don't know why they aren't answered, and I may never know. I believe I am allowed to grieve over unanswered prayers, but ultimately my belief is firmly planted that God is good, all the time. I will bring my heart to Him and pour out my desires to my loving, merciful, giving Father. And in the moments that I don't receive the answer I want or an answer at all, I will still praise Him, for He works good in all things, all the time.

Here's to looking at you, husband.

I was laying in bed that morning watching you get ready. It sounds creepy, but it's not. Hear me out. Sweetness had woken up so many times that night. I was exhausted. The bed was so comfortable and warm, that I did not want to get up.

You were brushing your teeth, putting your contacts in, fixing your hair and other mundane, ordinary tasks. Not that the fact of you brushing your teeth is appealing or mesmerizing, but you are. Those mundane, ordinary tasks were being done in the comfort of our home. OUR home. The home we share together.

I didn't want to get up because I was entranced. By you.

You, as the leader of our home. My best friend. My protector and caretaker. My confidante. My other half. My love.

My husband.

I'm speechless at the gift I have been given of your company. Blown away by your love for me and Sweetness, I can only savor these special reminders. I tuck them away as precious memories to revisit at a later date.

I'm lucky, blessed, and truly honored to be the one who gets to lay in the soft, comfortable, warm bed, looking at you.

Telephone singing, ringing
It's too early, don't pick it up
We don't need to
We got everything we need right here
and everything we need is enough
Just so easy
When the whole world fits inside of your arms
Do we really need to pay attention to the alarm?
Wake up slow, wake up slow

Take me back to November

Dreaming of November.
Early morning yawns just missing the sunrise.
The sound and smell of coffee drip, drip, dripping.
Wrapped in a blanket in a rocking chair.
Holding hands across the porch in perfect silence.
Crisp morning breeze swaying the grass and trees.
Watching the ducks waddle by the trickling creek.
A blank agenda waiting to be filled with adventure.
Walking through the nature trail hoping to see a deer or small furry rabbit.
The painted cow and rooster sculptures from the art school welcome attention.
Marveling at the beautiful scenery of creation.
The architecture in perfect design as if in a magazine.
Walking through the small town of infinite activities and places.
Holding the hand of my love, so proud to be walking by his side.
Soaking in the sights, smells, and sounds.

Take me back to November.

Arise

Since high school, when I was searching for hope, light, and love, Isaiah 60:1 has been my rock. I've written about it a couple times...

Isaiah 60:1 "Arise shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. "

The whole chapter is wonderful and brings me to tears nearly every time I read it.

Verses 2 &3 say "For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will be seen upon you. And nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising."

This is not merely an encouraging verse to give us warm fuzzy feelings. This is a charge. But it doesn't even stop at that. It is a charge with a promise. A promise that the light of the glory of the Lord will be on us. This means that anything and everything is possible, and it's possible to be accomplished through us. It's not by our strength or anything that we do by ourselves, but by His glory that will be seen upon us.

In Luke 10:2, it says that the harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Isaiah 60 doesn't say work really hard to chase and force religion on the nations. It simply says, "Arise, shine...and nations shall come to your light."

If nations aren't coming to my light, am I really shining?
How do we make sure that our light is shining?
Do people notice our light?
Or are we stepping in line with the parade as an unseen face in the crowd?

Simply, Arise.
Arise in confidence.
Arise in power.
Arise in a ridiculous mind-blowing love that defies all logic.
And the nations will come.

Slight Sliver of Hope

The sky was raining the other day. Dark clouds lingering over tired people with their coffee in hand for survival. I didn't have any coffee before I left the house. What a crime it should be to attempt to function in society without a warm cup of joe! I could almost smell the sweet aroma if I closed my eyes and focused really hard.

Taking a deep breath and turning the volume up, the empty spaces began to be filled. Listening to music, the chords strumming with my breathing and the beat of the drum matching the beat of my heart.

The chorus of rain on the pavement, the chill in the air, the sweet harmonies drowning out the mumbling of coworkers in the office.

The slight show of light, the yellow sunbeam peeking through the clouds, just a small sliver of hope for the moment.

And the show must go on.

I thought I saw someone today

I thought I saw someone today. Well, I did see someone today, but it wasn't the someone that I thought I saw. It couldn't be. That person is gone. He died years ago. And the one person who knew him like I did isn't in my life anymore.

So what do you do now?

If you are an introvert, who internally processes things, this might not be a dilemma for you. You might just think about it, or retreat to meditate, or journal about it. That's not how I work. I mean, it's how I will have to work since I don't have any other options, but preferably, I want to talk to someone. I want to reminisce. I want to be reminded of his quirks and funny stories. I want to connect with someone who knows what I'm talking about. I want to talk with someone who remembers what he looked like.

However, that's not an option for me. So I will do the only thing I can do. I will remember for myself and do my best to tell you what a great man the world lost.

He wasn't my dad, but he called me his kid.
He worked hard.
He had the best raspy laugh.
He refused to go through drive-thru's because he said that human interaction was becoming extinct.
He lived alone in his tiny apartment, but always had people over.
He didn't need anything fancy to be happy.
He smoked way too much.
He talked about his daughter constantly and how he wished he could have had a relationship with her growing up.
He made up for that lost relationship by spoiling me. (Is that fair? I don't know, but it was fact.)
He loved Classic Rock.
He never ate sweets.
He drank way too much, which was ultimately what killed him.

We connected in a special way. I desperately wanted a relationship with my dad and he desperately wanted a relationship with his daughter. We weren't the puzzle pieces that fit, but bandaids that helped ease the sting for a while. Until he was gone.

He had gone to the hospital for some testing on some swelling he was having in his legs. I was going to go visit him when I got off work, but he told me not to. He said there was no point because the doctors were releasing him the next day. But the next day we got a call from his sister. She had been notified by the hospital, and when she looked through his phone, we were the people he talked the most to and the last people that he had contacted.

He had to know more than he told us. There had to have been some heads up from the doctors about his condition. Did he choose to die alone? Or did he slip away suddenly to the surprise of even the medical staff? Did he know how many people cared for him? Did he just not want us to see him struggling and in pain? I don't know. I may never know.

I remember the day I found out. I was told in my office while I was working. My office manager and others burst into tears and I just sat there. When I could form cohesive sentences, I just asked everyone to leave my office.

Shock is the best way to describe it, I guess. A knot formed in my stomach and I thought I was going to be sick. I had to power through. I needed to work. I needed a task. I needed a distraction. I didn't actually cry until a couple days later at his funeral. I walked into the room and saw the casket and just broke down. It was him, but not really him. It was his body, but not his life and spirit. The spunk was gone. The twinkle in his eyes. The wrinkles that formed when he laughed would never be seen again. He was gone.

The best closure that I could possibly get was getting to meet his daughter. It was hard to form words that sounded like something other than blubbering tears. But I had to. She had to know how much he loved her. I don't know if it made a difference or if she ever thinks about him. I don't know every little detail behind what happened between him and his daughter, but she had to know that there was not one day that went by that he did not mention her or show me a picture. Maybe it did more harm than good, I may never know that either. Maybe it was more for me than her. Maybe I went and talked to her because I felt like he would have wanted me to. I just wanted her to know that she was never forgotten or thought ill of. I wanted her to know that was deeply cherished and loved, and that it would have meant the world to him to know that she was there.

Several other people followed behind me to say things along the same lines. They gave her pictures of him and told her funny stories. She was between laughing and crying the whole time. I left before the line was up of people to talk to her. Either way, I'm glad that she got to hear how great he was. I hope she was able to sort through the ideas she had of him and the stories that we told. Another thing that I may never know.

What I do know is that I have a deep appreciation for this life I live. Every day, every breath, every moment, every memory. Every thing that happens will be a memory by tomorrow. So will it be a good memory or a bad one? It's not what happens that matters, but how we respond. How we respond to waiting, or crisis, or misjudgement, or even good things that happen will leave the mark. Ashes don't tell you what the structure was before it burned, but they do tell you that something indeed burned. As the years go on, the details of the incident are forgotten, but how we felt, how we reacted, how we treated other people, how we commemorated the event, how we spoke, how we handled our emotions, will last.

At his funeral, we didn't talk about his political preferences, bad habits, or theological beliefs. We talked about who he was and how every day was better with him in it. I want to make today count. I want people at my funeral to have good memories, funny stories, and tales of an open heart of untamed love to remember me. Whether I go out in blazing flames, or slip silently away at the end of a burning wick, I want you to remember this one thing: The greatest love and fulfillment that you couldn't even dream of is available to you for a price that has already been paid; the greatest price: life.

I hope I don't have to die for people to know this about me. I hope that while I live, I can love in a way that shows that I have been given the truest love there is. I hope that I handle hurt and pain in a way that shows the vast mercy I have received. I hope that I have a joy that is contagious, and that my confidence can be centered in my great God who has set me apart for something great, but not hindered by pride. I hope that I convey in some shape or form that that great love is not emptied with me, but over-flowing in abundance for you, exactly where you are, how you are.

I hope that you accept it and live exceedingly greater than you ever thought was possible for you.
Because you can.