Four years ago today, it all started. The beginning of the hardest, most painful season of my life. Four years ago today, my Aunt Darla died as a result of liver disease. Though she spent quite awhile on the transplant list, a donor match never came. I remember exactly where I was (in my little silver Pontiac on Southwest Boulevard on my way to a morning class at TCC) when I heard the news.
Darla was the life of the party. I know that phrase gets thrown around a lot when someone is gone, but she really was. Her loud, bellowing laughter was so contagious. I miss her.
That seemed to be the event that set everything else in motion. It wasn't simply the death of Darla herself, but the death of the family I'd always known. Everyone changed after that day. In some ways, we were all more appreciative of one another.
The following year would bring everything that I thought was stable to a screeching halt with the death of both of my grandfathers, and the eventual divorce of my parents.
Today is a grieving day for me. That does not mean I need to mope or wallow, it just means that I take an extra few minutes to thank my sweet Jesus for where He has brought me since then. I did not think there would ever be a year, a month, or even a week without a life-altering trauma during those days. Today, I know otherwise. My God has proven His faithfulness over and over again since then. Yes, there are still "why's" floating around in my head, but I have since learned that that's okay. I just have to be satisfied in knowing that I don't get to know why. I can ask all I want, I just have to be satisfied with my God's answer: "Because this is what is best for you, my child, and brings the most glory to Me."
Blessed be the Name of the Lord. I praise Him alone for who I am and where He has brought me.