Monday, September 24, 2007


Today I'm mad. When I start to think about Josh being gone, instead of crying I have this weird picture of myself just taking a huge bat to this tree outside my house. I know that's strange. But it's persistently on my mind. I just haven't come to peace with his death. I haven't come to peace with the fact that he will not call me. I will never walk with his hand in mine. I will never see him at my front door. I won't awaken at 3:20 in the morning to some random text of his. And I'm not yet ok with that.

People say it a lot, but really, it just doesn't seem real. It doesn't seem possible that I'll never see him on this earth again. My mom told me the other day that he'll be there to greet me when I get to heaven. Great. I'm so glad.

And I know that now Josh is with his Creator. He is now made completely new. He is restored and is enjoying perfect, unhindered communion with the living God.

And still, selfishly, I want him here. I KNOW that I could never be able to satisfy him and bring him peace that His Father does and is, but here on earth, I can try. That's something that I always took for granted about him. I think I was this strange sort of peace to him. Like, no matter where he had been, he could still call me and know that I cared for him in a way neither of us could really explain.

I'm glad that the last words we spoke were me telling him how i felt -- finally being brutally honest about how I cared for him. I know it hurts to think how we were finally working out the saga that was us, right before he died, but I'm glad I said it.

But today hurts again. It seems to go in waves, waves of an acceptance, waves of complete despair. But today it's hopeless. Today, that feeling at the base of my chest is persistently reminding me that he will never call me again. No matter how much his mom and I talk about him, he's not coming back. He's not coming back.

"Oh, Lord, be not far away. But run to the help of your love..."

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