Pretty sure we covered all of east Knoxville in 30 minutes, and that's with seven of them getting off on the same stop!
They lost a brother this week.
They lost a friend.
They lost a classmate, neighbor, cousin.
And until I had a ball player twice my size tell me "this sucks" I had no idea.
I had no idea how hard this would be.
I've seen death. I've suffered loss. But I've watched a lot more people suffer and die in surrounding communities, other than my own.
I had no idea. And my heart hurts. Because I am not the solution. And that is hard.
I'm pretty convinced I suck at offering the real solution too. Cause let's be real. The little white girl offering Jesus after you just lost your family isn't something I would want either.
-
After having so many nightmares about identifying the body, you start to hate sleep. Or maybe sleep hates me. That is something I fear. That I haven't impacted the way I want. Or the way they think I have. I'm too late. It's impossible. They can't change. I don't have what it takes. And by now the Devil has made himself comfortable. Like he belongs inside me more than I do.
Push him out. Start over.
The sun wants to kiss me good morning, but getting up seems way harder than normal.
God is good. But how would they know unless I show them in the midst of all our own chaos.
Be strong.
I hear the words, and feel my body moving, I just don't feel the connection between the two.
I hate being robotic.
-
Not everything is well.
Reality looks like the songs being prerecorded.
The face was filtered, and wiped of tears just moments before that picture got all the likes.
The meals were missed.
The prayers are hands clawing for something that looks like a silver lining.
I don't believe less.
I just have a lot more reasons to agree with his statement.
"This sucks"
The story goes on.
My eyes look through the grief like rain, searching for stars. They are still there. They never left.
Neither did You.
Joy.
My heart still beats, because this is their broken story, and I am their writer.
One day, they will see beyond their struggle, grief, rain. And they too will see the stars.
They lost a friend.
They lost a classmate, neighbor, cousin.
And until I had a ball player twice my size tell me "this sucks" I had no idea.
I had no idea how hard this would be.
I've seen death. I've suffered loss. But I've watched a lot more people suffer and die in surrounding communities, other than my own.
I had no idea. And my heart hurts. Because I am not the solution. And that is hard.
I'm pretty convinced I suck at offering the real solution too. Cause let's be real. The little white girl offering Jesus after you just lost your family isn't something I would want either.
-
After having so many nightmares about identifying the body, you start to hate sleep. Or maybe sleep hates me. That is something I fear. That I haven't impacted the way I want. Or the way they think I have. I'm too late. It's impossible. They can't change. I don't have what it takes. And by now the Devil has made himself comfortable. Like he belongs inside me more than I do.
Push him out. Start over.
The sun wants to kiss me good morning, but getting up seems way harder than normal.
God is good. But how would they know unless I show them in the midst of all our own chaos.
Be strong.
I hear the words, and feel my body moving, I just don't feel the connection between the two.
I hate being robotic.
-
Not everything is well.
Reality looks like the songs being prerecorded.
The face was filtered, and wiped of tears just moments before that picture got all the likes.
The meals were missed.
The prayers are hands clawing for something that looks like a silver lining.
I don't believe less.
I just have a lot more reasons to agree with his statement.
"This sucks"
The story goes on.
My eyes look through the grief like rain, searching for stars. They are still there. They never left.
Neither did You.
Joy.
My heart still beats, because this is their broken story, and I am their writer.
One day, they will see beyond their struggle, grief, rain. And they too will see the stars.
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