This day.  7 years back.

I just pulled into a parking space for worship practice.  I was late.  Again.

My phone rang.

I almost didn’t answer.  I almost let it go to voicemail.  But I answered because it was my mom. (Truthfully I probably would have let it go to voicemail if it had been anyone else. I don’t like talking on the phone anyway.  I have a hard time knowing what to say to people. But her.  I would talk to her all the time.)

“Can Dad and I come see you tonight?”
“Well, I am about to walk into practice and I won’t be home until 9.”
“Ok. We will be there at 9:30.”

Heart drop.

I knew.

*She would not drive 30 minutes to our house at 9:30 at night just for fun.*

I spent the next two hours of practice sitting on the stage, with the microphone in my lap, staring at nothing.


I have come to the conclusion that it’s really grace that prevents us from seeing the future.  I mean we always want to know what is in the future.  We worry about what will be in the future.  But, when push comes to shove, would we really want to know?  I mean really.

Yes, I worried on that stage as I stared into space.  I wanted to know what was happening.  I wanted to know answers.

But if I had been told that in just over 100 extremely short days I would be saying goodbye to my very best friend, the one who knew me better than anyone, the one I called, the one who supported me in all I did…  If I had the whole picture of waiting and praying and hoping and having hope crushed. If I could see the nights spent driving home from the hospital with my eyes so full of tears that I have no earthly idea how I got home safely.  If I had been told about how many sleepless nights I would spend questioning God and His goodness.  If I had seen the day when my mom showed me the clothes she wanted to be buried in.  (And the extreme emotion overload when 6 months later I would see someone wearing the same shirt.)  If I had known about hospice and the sound of labored breathing, and how I would watch her chest rise and fall anxiously for days, fearing the time it would stop.  If I could hear the squeaks of gurney wheels down sterile hallways and how I would hide so I didn’t have to see it go by.  If I had known that a place exists that is full of caskets where the grieving family is somehow supposed to keep it together, wander around the room and choose one. (What. The. Crap?  Worst ‘shopping’ experience ever!)

If I had known.

Truthfully, if I had known, I would have spent my life savings to get some serious drugs to put me in a coma for the next 4 months.  I would have curled up in a ball somewhere and insisted it was an impossible task.  I would reserve my room in the local crazy bin, right then and there.  I would instantly learn to sprint like an African Olympic runner and run far, far away.  (Insert complaint about stereotyping here.)

No way I would survive it.

When life hits you hard.  Really hard. You tend to want to know answers.  You want to know the future and how it will all work out.  Really, honestly, you want to be told it will all be ok.  I get it.

Truthfully, sometimes life suuuuuuuucks!!

Some days there are not enough swears in the world to be able to describe how you feel about how life has sucker punched you.  And if God was to give you the full picture of what you were headed for, you would run as fast as your short little legs would carry you.

If life just hit you in the balls, and fear is surrounding you about the future, just know this. God is gracious.  He is gracious in giving you one day at a time.  He is faithful, and even when it seems like no goodness exists in your situation, He is there.  Draw closely to him.  Cling so tightly that your hands cramp up and your muscles ache from holding on.  Depend on Him to pull you through.

One day at a time.

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