My Choice

It's funny how ironic life can be.

I have been toying with the idea of writing a blog post chronicling all the reasons I've been down in the dumps lately.  I was even going to call it "Here's Your Violin" as a nod to that tiny gesture between an index finger and a thumb that takes a complaint and puts it in its proper place.

I was going to write about how much I abhor saying good-bye to several dear friends leaving this Christmas.....how all this leaving rocks the world of a girl who loves deeply.

The fact that I'm having some sort of mid life crisis and am feeling hugely unfulfilled right now resulting in a conversation with Scot about going back to school to become Something.  Because for some reason I think becoming something else other than what I am will fix everything.

Being sick for a week that left me exhausted and very vulnerable to some pretty ugly mind games that on the flip side I'm still trying to sort through.

Feeling a little helpless.  Or a lot helpless.

But then this morning, my sweet Grandma died.

And I wasn't there.

Just like three years ago when my Grandma June died right after we moved to Singapore.....I was stuck here and unable to get to my family.

Helpless.  In a "I want to scream and scream and scream" kind of way.

I wasn't at her bedside because I was in Cambodia.  Learning and being a part of something that is working hard to bring hope to children that are in a hopeless situation.  It is ugly.  It is awful.  It is gut wrenchingly sad.  It is evil.

I spent the day in the midst of people who have to rely on God's goodness to survive.  Who have more faith than anyone I know.  Who are doing so much good and are willing to give up anything and everything to make a difference in the lives of kids who experience horrors no human should ever experience.

Hope.  They live it every single day because they have to.  And let me tell you, it would be super easy to feel helpless in that situation and not one person would blame them.....and yet they choose to hope.

Today I am mourning the loss of a woman that I adored.  A woman that made the best fruit salad in the world,  took me to get my first pair of contact lenses, taught me how to drive a stick shift, let me play dress up with her fantastic collection of clip on earrings, showed me that the best place to keep a spare Kleenex is in your bra, called me her "Pumpkin" and used words like "Pish-ah".  I inherited my dangerous love of sweets from her and the attitude that ice cream is good any time of the day and that candy dishes are meant to be filled.  She was proud and beautiful and I am going to miss her desperately.

But I can't feel helpless because she couldn't wait to meet Jesus and that's where she is right now.

Hope.

It's a beautiful thing.  It's the only thing that gets you out of bed some mornings.

I have to choose hope.  Hope that all the things I've been struggling with will make me stronger.  Hope that in the midst of saying good-bye to people I love I will learn how to make the most of every moment.  Hope that God has a plan for my life that will leave me feeling fulfilled.

Hope for one child saved.....one child clothed.....one child that learns what love feels like.

Hope that one day I will see my beautiful Grandma again even though I will desperately miss her presence here on earth.

I have to choose hope.