God, Wife, and Struggles

There are not a lot of moments where I  think of you, but I still do. About every six months or so. It’s been a few years, but I remember taking you out to dinner with my children. Talking to you, trying to relate. Praying for you. Texting you, reminding you, that I was there. I still think about the “what else” and could’ve done anything. But the reality of life is that you’re gone. And I’m still here. 

We were never intimately close, enough to be high school friends. And after your accident, there weren’t many of those left.

I was happy to call you a friend. I was happy to walk through Life with you. But ultimately, that wasn’t enough and I know it’s not my fault. I mourn you. I mourn the way you left this world. I mourn where you ended. I mourn for your eternal soul. I mourn that I never got to attend your funeral. And I don’t know where you’re buried. I mourn that. I never got to connect with your family. To talk to your mom like I did when you were unconscious in the hospital after your accident. I realize that I was one of the only people who came and stayed. Many were afraid to look at you in that state.

I know The World was cruel and unkind to you, even before your accident. After your accident, your brain was not the same. The person I knew was there, but not fully. That accident changed her in more than one way. Leaving her handicapped. Her brain was not functioning the way that she wanted it to. But you were lucky to be alive. But I know you were in pain.

It’s not you that I’m upset with. It’s the deceiver. The one that made you believe that “that” was your only way out. The one that’s here to kill, steal, and destroy. The one that makes me feel like a coward. I feel my head filling with the what-ifs. What if I had repeated the gospel more? What if I had texted you when I felt the urge to? What if I made you a priority during that phase of life? What if I just chose to sit there and be still with you, even though it was uncomfortable? 

But I didn’t. Then at least I shared the gospel with you. Or maybe I just say that to make myself feel better. The reality is that you’re gone and I can’t change that. So I choose to change tomorrow. 

I choose to share the gospel unapologetically. To text those people whom the Holy Spirit is prompting me to. To be a present friend. To not allow people to hide in the shadows. Not to be in the shadow myself. And most importantly, not to listen to the deceiver.  Because I, too, have been mere moments away from the step that you chose to take my friend. Fight the urge. I promise tomorrow is a new day and the darkness leaves in the morning. 

As my favorite twenty one pilots lyric goes, “Tie a noose around your mind, loose enough to breath fine and tie it… To a tree, tell it, “you belong to me. This ain’t a noose, this is a leash. And I have news for you, you must obey me.””

So then, turn on a light. And if you can’t find one, I have one you can borrow. I have one that gives hope, everlasting life, and peace. 

““Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.””

Matthew 11:28-30 NASB1995

“There was the true Light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man.”

John 1:9 NASB1995