I look at my wife and just can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe that I’m here, in this room, still trying to fathom how quickly a life turned around. I can’t describe how differently I saw this week going. I can’t believe this isn’t the worst nightmare I’ve ever had.
I can’t figure out how I’m going to go on. I can’t determine how I’m going to be a parent to my two children without my other half, my helpmate. I can’t picture how I’m going to make it from day to day without her by my side. I can’t imagine walking back into our house, or sitting in our living room, or standing in our kitchen, or laying in our bed. I can’t figure out what I’m going to tell my children (at least Brady, as Halle is too young to understand anything), or how they’re going to respond to Mommy not being around anymore.
I can’t accept this. I can’t stop wondering “why, God.” I can’t stop wondering “why not someone else” or “why not no one else” or “why now” or even “why not, God.” I can’t stop being angry at a fallen world where stuff like this has to happen to people every day. I can’t stop asking and wondering.
I can’t stop believing that a miracle will happen. I can’t stop wondering why I can’t stop believing. I can’t stop begging God. I can’t stop pleading and crying and screaming and asking. I can’t figure out why I’m in the cross-fire.
I can’t stop aching or hurting. I can’t stop being miserable. I can’t stop thinking about all of these things.
I can’t stop having hope in God. I can’t stop having faith in Him and knowing His ways are above our ways. I can’t stop believing His Word. I can’t stop believing how much He loves us and how He proved that when He sent His Son to die for us. I can’t stop remembering God and Who He is and how He is. I can’t seem to forget that He loves me.
I just can’t figure out what He’s doing.
And what it has to do with me.