A song in my heart

source

2 years.

Ugh. You'd think I would be getting used to this by now, but there is something so utterly wrong about those two words when they're in the context of death. The death of the man I loved more than anything. The death of my dreams. The death of a girl who would never be again.

This week I have felt the distance. I have felt the length of time. I have also felt the still very raw heartache that comes no matter how much time will pass. At least a hundred times a day, I'm trying to remember what I was doing exactly 2 years ago, trying to hold on to all the pieces leading up to Jeremy's death.

Don't get me wrong, I've picked up a lot of pieces. My grief is no longer inward and isolated (most of the time), and I am able to smile when I see his face. I am thankful for the opportunity to still make Jeremy proud in this life and carry on his legacy through his stories and the lives of the three beautiful children he brought into the world. But there are some parts that just still hurt.

One part I've noticed this in is singing. Singing was what brought Jeremy and I together (we met at an audition for an Acapella group in college) and it was something we were both passionate about. The night before he died, we had been at rehearsal for an instrumental worship service he and I were going to lead two days later. We never got to sing that night together and I can't remember the last time we were on stage singing together before that (in was likely the week or two before that, I just can't remember specifically). This kills me for some reason.

This weekend, I was able to travel with friends to lead worship at a youth rally in Kentucky. It's been such a long time since I've been able to do that, I forgot how much I missed it. How much it ignites in me. How much I feel Jer's presence (and God's presence) when I go. But for some reason, I can't bring myself to get back up at our church to sing. It's too hard. Because Jeremy should be up there leading worship, and I should be standing next to him. It feels too different without him there.

That same night after rehearsal, we drove home for what would be the last time together. Tired and stressed from a 14 hour day for us both, way past the kids' bedtime, and ready to crawl into bed and call it a day, Jeremy reached over and grabbed my hand...

"I love to hear you sing. And I love getting to sing with you."

I will never forget that moment. It's a moment that I now look back at with foresight - a gift that Jeremy gave me to continue to pursue that passion even when it was hard, even when it hurt. I sang for him until I could sing for me again. 

Now I sing for us both, and I carry Jeremy in my heart whenever I do. Because he's a part of me, and now he's a song in my heart. There will be no singing this week, for my heart is heavy with the memory of my last moments with him 2 short years ago.

But the song is there, and it will return.



P.S. I would like to ask you all to pray for Jessica Woods, who became a widow today after her husband, Ryan, lost his battle with terminal brain cancer. They are a young family with young children, and they have lived an incredible story that will touch your heart. Please visit http://www.grassrootsconspiracy.com/blog/ and read about them and send some encouragement to Jessica and her family.

The change a year can bring

I've made a decision to try and be better about posting. I always struggle with feeling like people have heard enough and don't really care to hear me continue whining about everything, but I have A LOT to share and a lot on my heart....and well, this is really for me. Cause I have a horrible memory and my only recollection of the last 14 months is from what I wrote down. And, I have been EXTREMELY busy.

Tonight, I want to start with just a little snippet about my trip to Gulf Coast Getaway this year. We just got back this week from one of the most incredible events we do all year long - I've blogged about it every year cause it changed my life big time. It has become a bittersweet event for me, because Jeremy went with me my first time, and last year I was 8 months pregnant...I just miss being there with him. I want to tell him about so much. Like how beautiful it was there this year, the best weather I've seen yet for January in Florida:

I spent a lot of time on the beach this trip. I thought so much about this beach and the milestones it has taken me through. Two years ago, we sat at the very beach and cried with a hurting friend, prayed together, and solidified a friendship that will last a lifetime. Last year, I sat alone on this very beach, in the cold, screaming curses to God with tears streaming down my face and fury and confusion in my heart. This time, I thought a lot about how much change a year can bring. I stood on this very beach with a different song in my heart, at a different place in my life. I cried a lot for Jeremy, but not the way I did last year. This year, I cried a lot for my brother too...for some reason, his loss hit me hard on the trip. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I feel closer to God in His beauty and creation. I pray more by the ocean. I breath deeper. I listen. But no matter what ups and downs I experienced on this trip, what I kept thinking about was how much different it could be in a year from now, on this very beach.

What I also know is that through all my ups and downs, I have incredible friends. This event brings me together with dear people I only get to see a few times out of the year, or JUST this time every year. But they are treasures to me:

This year, I got another tattoo. This one I've been wanting for awhile, for Jeremy. Sarah and I have gotten both our tattoos together, which is very meaningful to me...and her tattoo was with Jeremy in mind as well:

Overall, it was a great weekend. I always encounter God in a powerful way at Gulf Coast. I even adopted a little boy from Haiti named Johnsley. The kids and I are very excited to write him some letters and learn more about him! It was a highlight of my weekend. 

I tried to take lots of deep breaths to prepare me for the changes of another year...