I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing.

The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow, from stealing all my time
And I am here still waiting, though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

The broken locks were a warning, you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
And I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
They are looking for purpose, they're still looking for life

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart, that's still beating
In the pain, there is healing, in your name
I find meaning; So I'm holding on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holding on to you -Lifehouse

Here I find myself again. That awful, heart-wrenching pain in which it hurts to be awake. I know it all too well. It hurts to breathe. The only relief I find is in sleep, and when I wake up for even just a moment, it hits me all over again. I feel physically ill. I can't bring myself to eat. Once again, I ask that question, Why? God, what are you doing? Can't you give me a break? Really? You can't let ANYTHING good happen to me? I try every day to be a loving person. With every new person that I meet, I do my best to look under the surface. To remember that everyone I meet is fighting some kind of battle. That is one gift Evan gave me; to appreciate everyone, every day. To love people, because you never know how much time with them you will be gifted. There is no doubt in my mind that Evan knew how much I loved him, that he was my hero, because I told him on numerous occasions. I have no regrets. I resolved to keep it that way; to never let a moment pass without telling people how I felt. Family, friends, relationships. I have to fight the urge to feel as though I am being punished for that. I have to remind myself that this is not how God works. He is not punishing me. It is just so, so hard.

You know when you're a kid, and you fall down, and you get the breath knocked out of you? And you're okay, but it's just really scary for a minute. And you have to take long, deep breaths. I feel like I just had the breath knocked out of me. Breathing is a chore, and right now, it's about all I can muster.

And any time pain surfaces in my life, and any kind of loss, it brings back those awful reminders that I just want to block out forever. Those memories of the day we found out, Mom's reaction, that feeling when you know something awful has happened, but you don't know what it is yet; that "I can't tell you over the phone, just please come to the house" statement that I heard from Dad that day; the frantic prayers.."Please, God, don't let it be Evan, or Mom, or anyone else I love so dearly..." I called my friends and told them to just pray. The same feeling I had yesterday, that "it can't be" , blindsided, shocked feeling. A different situation-but that same, gut-wrenching, familiar feeling. That feeling that I know so well. How is that I already, at my age, know that feeling so well? I had to grow up way before I was ever ready to.

You see, this is the price we pay for love. To love some freely, fully, and faithfully is to make yourself completely vulnerable. If you do not make yourself vulnerable, take the risks, and love, then you will tragically, sadly, miserably "under-live" life. Grieving is an inevitable part of being fully alive and living in love, but the risk of grief is no reason not to love. Grief is just the inevitable price we someday pay for a lifetime of intimacy, joy, and love with friends, parents, children, siblings, and spouses(Chuck Poole). Would I take back every memory of Evan, because it hurt so greatly to lose him? Not in a million years. Friends I've lost, as recently as yesterday? Never. All the relationships I've lost? Nope. At the end of the day, I have the LOVE of my Savior above all, who never leaves me. Who holds me through the storm. Who never changes. Who loves me when I sure don't deserve it, when I'm mad at Him, when I believe AND when I doubt. Unconditionally. And on top of it all, He blessed me with a wonderful family and friends.

You know the song "Wear Sunscreen"? Some of the lyrics include, "Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindsides you at 4 PM on some idle Tuesday." It's true. The things that I worry about endlessly are things that are not likely to happen; the things I never thought would happen are the things that I am blindsided by; that I never expected. And the Matt Kearney song, "She got the call today. One out of the grey. And when the smoke cleared, it took her breath away. She said she didn't believe it could happen to me, I guess we're all phone call from our knees."

We are all a phone call from our knees, aren't we? People kept telling me that they couldn't imagine, when we lost Evan. I thought myself, "I can't do this". Those are the first words I uttered. Here I am today, still doing it. But you know what? You can do it. I can do it. Believe me, if I can do it, anyone can. It made me a stronger person, in fact. Because when you are faced with the unimaginable, when you get that phone call, you don't have a choice but to survive. People are faced with all kinds of situations. My Aunt found the love of her life; 13 years later, my Uncle Bob was killed in a car accident. A close friend of our family faced a life-threatening brain injury 6 months after giving birth to her precious child; She was not expected to live, and she struggles every day through therapy. Without warning, a husband leaves his wife after 4 years of marriage. We are faced with choices in life, and are dealt cards that we never expected and don't want.

Then, and certainly not overnight, but we eventually come to a fork in the road, and we have a choice to make. We can become bitter, sad, miserable people; or we can praise God through the storm. We can be mad for a while, or we can stay mad forever; We can choose to love again, or we can stop loving. We can never let our guard down again, or we can eventually learn to take another risk. I believe that I will make the right choice; I certainly hope so.

I am really just a bunch of contradictions. I think we all are. I shut people out, I let people in, I keep a wall up, I let my guard down, I believe and I doubt, I hope and I get discouraged, I love and I hate(I actually don't hate anyone) , I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty.

Letting someone in is hard. I don't do it easily. When we lost Evan, I shut everyone out. I didn't realize it at the time. In my dazed world apart from reality, I wasn't aware of it until I came out of the haze and looked back. The bottom line is, it's hard to let people in, especially when we get hurt. I let my guard down-finally, truly, and fully. Did I know there was a risk associated with it? Of course. That's why I was so hesitant. It's never easy to put yourself out there, to be exactly who you are, to refuse to change who you are, to be open and give someone your heart, and to find out that they don't want it. The easy way out is to keep that wall up-if you never let it down, you don't risk the hurt. But if you don't risk the hurt, as Chuck Poole says so eloquently, you will "tragically, sadly, miserably under-live life."

It's interesting when you look back and see the signs. Kind of like I didn't realize I had shut myself off from the world; that the Lord had sent people to carry me through a most horrific time in my life after Evan died. Friends that loved me unconditionally; that continued to show up when I didn't want them there, when all I wanted was to be alone. That still remained my friend when I was so mad about taking stupid medicine that didn't want, that I slammed the water down on my parent's bed. It wasn't until I looked back that I could see it. A couple weeks ago, I just had this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, that something was wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it, I just didn't feel good. I had to go into my office and just put my head down during lunch. People kept asking me what was wrong, and I honestly didn't know. I just didn't feel like myself. Maybe it was God's way of preparing me; I just didn't know for what.

Eventually, you find that the pain subsides; that you're able to breath a little easier. I just wish it would get here already! Alas, patience in that sense has always been hard for me. I want to feel better NOW. But you have to get it out; you have to grieve, you have to cry and be mad, or it will assuredly come out at some point or another.

And I remind myself: the Lord is all-knowing. It is SO hard to put all your trust in Him; but that is what He calls us to do. My soul wants to lash back, what ARE you doing? I didn't sign up for this!
But you know what? I have survived the unthinkable; an unimaginable tragedy. I can survive this. I am a survivor. God give me the strength to believe those words.

And the good news is, I've finally lost those last few pounds that have been pestering me, all in the last 12 hours! See, there is a silver lining. Thank goodness I haven't lost my sense of humor!

I'll say it again: I AM A SURVIVOR. You are a survivor. We may fight different battles, but we are all survivors.

The Lord will FIGHT for you; You need only to be still." -Exodus 14:14