365.

I can’t believe I am already writing this. My heart races just thinking about it. One year ago today life broke. Over the last year we have seen how God orchestrated people and events leading up to July 29th, so I guess July 29th is not when it all started, but when our eyes were opened. It’s not a blur. It’s very clear and crisp to me. I remember the moments and the seconds. I see your faces. I will never forget you. You showed up. You answered the phone late that Sunday night. You came to the emergency room. You came the next day and in the next weeks. You wrote letters and prepared fruit baskets. You cleaned my mom’s house and you walked our dog. You sat and held us while we tried to comprehend what was happening with the man we so deeply love. You are still sitting with us. You are still calling and telling us your Ferilen stories. You have taken our hearts and so gently covered them with prayer. We have needed you more than we will say. Thank you for consistently, patiently loving us.

This day one year ago started a 2-week journey of hope, confusion, beauty and pain. Reflecting back on the caringbridges I wrote I was reminded of the weight of each day. They each held so much hope. Every day there was something we anticipated happening- a new test, a new medication, a new doctor. Our goal was clear- bringing daddy back. Please. That was our heart’s song. Our heart and minds stirred with the truths we know about God and His promises. His presence was evident, but “Why is this happening??” swirled in all of us. On this side of Heaven, I will never know. Most days, I am at peace with that. I ache to change it, but I have faith that there is more. God is too good and too faithful for this to be all there is. In those two weeks I discovered everything I knew about God to be true and He has been so much more. I believed that He was loving and kind and gentle, powerful, all knowing, and gracious, but He was {and is} infinitely more. It is tangible. I feel it and I have seen it. He is so good.

As we gathered around my dad and wondered aloud where he was- where was his consciousness? was he sleeping? did he hear us? did he know what was happening? was he transitioning between life and Heaven? Heidi spoke a beautiful, life-giving certainty, “He has seen Jesus’ face.” A cold and refreshing reality. This was happening and the man’s hand I was holding had seen Jesus face to face. The next two weeks provided the most tender, tangible grace I can imagine as I had the opportunity to love, care for and hold the man who first captivated my heart.