Is this real life?

My friend Chelsea and I often say the expression "is this real life?" in unexpected situations, whether good, bad, or indifferent. Lately, I've found myself repeating this over and over again in my head. October 23rd. A day in which no one could have foreseen what would happen. As I made my way back from grocery shopping, I returned to my apartment and sat down to write a paper. I was successfully procrastinating on doing so when I got a phone call from my grandma. My NFL ringtone sounded and I picked up. She asked if I was home and said they'd be there in a few minutes. Quickly I ran out into the living room and told my roommate we should probably clean up a little. I figured they were just stopping by to see the place, but jokingly said aloud 'hope they aren't hear to break some bad news.' I typically enjoy being right, but in this case, I would have given anything to be wrong. I greeted them at the door and quickly picked up on a solemn tone. My grandma said to me 'I'm going to have to tell you the hardest news of your life, we better sit down.' Thoughts were racing through my head as we proceed to the couch. She grabbed my hands, looked up at me, and with a shaky voice said 'your dad is gone.' The only thing I could say was 'what?' I didn't know what was happening. I kept repeating the same word, but the confusion continued. She explained to me that he had shot himself that evening and my heart sank...it sank to the lowest place it had ever been. My immediate thought was to call my go to guy, my boyfriend. As I locked my self in the bathroom, I dropped to the floor in tears. As I dialed his number, my head was spinning. He answered and in a sobbing voice I said my 'my dad, he's gone!' He obviously couldn't understand what I was saying through the crying. I dropped the phone in udder shock to the words I had just muttered. He called me back immediately and I tried to explain what was going on. We both were freaking out to say the least. I told him I loved him and his comforting voice said the same words back to me. In that moment, he became my rock even more so. At the same time, my mom had called another phone, and I went to go answer that. In sheer disbelief, I held the most unwanted conversation, a conservation about the circumstances leading up to this awful news. I was hurting not only for myself, but mostly for my mom. I agreed to come home that night and also, very unwillingly I might add, agreed to have my uncle drive my truck back. During that forty-five minute drive, I played the song 'I Shall Belief' over and over again. Even in that moment of raw sadness, anger, confusion, and hurt...it felt as though God was holding me. We made our way to my driveway and as my loud diesel truck roared up the hill, I saw countless cars backed all the way down the road and was soon met with tons of police vehicles gathered around the shop. This was crazy. I didn't know if I wanted to punch everyone in the face, run away from this scene, or just cry. In this mix of crazy emotions, people were the last thing I wanted to deal with. All I wanted was my horse and dog. In a brief confrontation with an out of county officer who wouldn't allow me to go out to the horse stalls, I'm pretty sure I threatened him. Ooops. Not sorry about that. Anyway, I successfully won that little argument and went out to see Fanny. Usually a mean old horse, she was sweet and lowered her head into my arms. I calmed down a bit and fed her some grain. With a little bit of steam blown off, I went back into the house. Of course people were all over trying to console me, but really, it just made it worse. I just kept thinking 'is this real life?' In my head...well..nothing was clear..I had no idea what to do or think. The crazy thing is that even in that great confusion when nothing made sense, God did. I talked again to Michael and his loving words made the difference. He calmed me down and assured me that he would be there as soon as possible. Again, I emerged from my room and faced the people in the house. Dwindling down to just family, the situation became a lot more manageable. Instead of wanting to throw down on everyone, I begin to accept the love and support from those closest to me. The feeling in the house was surreal. I didn't sleep that night, but instead clung to a cross necklace that was my dad's. Ironically, I was clinging to God and that silver chain was almost a symbol of that. That night, everything was raw. Raw thoughts, raw emotions, raw feelings. I wasn't processing anything. God's love and strength never left me however. It would have been real easy to set the tone of 'why God, why?' and just run from him, but I am ever thankful that my initial reaction was the complete opposite. Even in a house full of people I felt alone, and turning to God was what I was left with. It was a make or break decision. In the midst of death, I had living hope.

We Have a Living Hope

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. In God’s great mercy he has caused us to be born again into a living hope, because Jesus Christ rose from the dead. Now we hope for the blessings God has for his children. These blessings, which cannot be destroyed or be spoiled or lose their beauty, are kept in heaven for you. God’s power protects you through your faith until salvation is shown to you at the end of time.1 Peter 1:3-5

Living, defined as an adjective, means having life and being full of it also. Hope, defined as a noun, means a desire accompanied by expectation of or belief in fulfillment. Put the two together and what do you get? A belief in fulfillment that is full of life. As believers, this is ours. The church that my parents attended, and that I then switched to, is appropriately named Living Hope Church. This attitude of belief in fulfillment couldn't be better demonstrated than it is there. My dad, having a simple faith, loved the Lord above all else. He believed it was a about a relationship, rather than religion. He didn't complicate it. He didn't judge. He didn't exclude. Living hope, both the church and the belief, do the same. Having a living hope isn't about all the 'rights' you do in a day, it's about believing in our Savior and not wavering in the trust of his ever present faith, hope, and love. Even when your life is full of 'wrongs,' you are not far away from having a living hope. My dad is dead, fact. My hope is alive, fact. It's crazy to me that even in this time of great loss, I have never felt more fulfilled. Of course that doesn't mean things aren't hard... because heck no they are! It just means that the Lord is in control and he blesses those who love and trust him. I'm not trying to tell a sob story or anything, I just want to show how great our God is. In the last three years, I have faced the three hardest things of my life. I was told I wouldn't walk for a minimum of two years, I fell victim to a traumatic incident and was diagnosed with PTSD, and now I've lost my dad and best friend. Do I want pity? No way. All I want is to show that God puts back together the broken pieces with the living hope that we are blessed with. I'm not the strongest, in fact, I'm quite weak. On my own, my strength is useless. Sure, maybe I can stack some hay or bench a little weight, but other than that, I'm a pansy. It's ONLY through GOD that I am strong. I have tattooed on me, Only God, because it's true. Without him, I'd be lost. Without a living hope, I'd be depressed. I've talked to so many people in their efforts to extend their condolences, and the saddest thing has been seeing those without a faith and the despair that is so evident. It's now more than ever so true: when you're down to nothing, God is up to something. I encourage everyone to pursue God. Don't pursue religion, pursue faith.

Death present, but I'm clinging the the living hope that is mine. Inside me is a weak heart, but behind it a strong God. It's ONLY GOD, people, it's only him.