Grief is a funny thing. It comes in waves. It sneaks up on you catching you completely off guard. It can also knock you over like a huge wave in the Gulf of Mexico. 

I watched as my grandfather grieved my grandmother while she was deteriorating from Alzheimer's. I watched again as he grieved her death in his own way. They were married for 72 years. I remembered adding it up that if Brian and I were to have been married for 72 years we would have to be 97 years old. I wondered if we'd live that long or if I even wanted to live that long. However, that wasn't God's plan for our lives. 17 years and 3 months and 17 days. 

On Wednesday afternoon when the doctor told me that they were basically watching and waiting for Brian to have a heart attack, I suddenly felt completely empty. How could we have prayed so hard and waited for what felt like forever only to find out that it was time to let him go. I knew immediately that I couldn't let him suffer a heart attack regardless of whether or not he could feel it. I wouldn't let that happen. I refused. I made what I believed to be the best decision for the love of my life - not to let him suffer...to let him go into the arms of Jesus. 

For 30 days, I had watched Brian's condition change rapidly and had sat for hours waiting for him to wake up. If he could just wake up....If only I could talk to him one more time. One more kiss. One more hug. To hear his voice one more time. For some reason, that was not what God had planned for us. It was time for Brian to go home and for the girls and I and those who love him to pick up our lives and learn to live with B in their hearts and not in our arms. 

This weekend, my girls and I walked hand-in-hand into a packed Sanctuary. It was filled with friends, co-workers, students with whom B had worked, family, church family, school family, etc. I have never seen so many people gather for a funeral. I honestly believe that Brian had no idea the impact he had made in our little piece of the world for almost 19 years. 

Since Brian moved to Little Rock, we had served at our church. He taught Sunday school, went on mission trips, worked with teenagers, helped with service projects, participated in Bible studies, coached. He had coached in the local softball leagues for all of our girls. He gave his time and his talents and his love. He was our guy. 

Ellie asked me last night if it was normal to not be hungry. Yes, it is normal. At least, it is where I am. 

Our hearts are aching, but I am resting and clinging to the prayer I prayed when Brian got sick. "Lord if this is what you are calling us to and what you have chosen for us then please don't allow it to be for naught. Do BIG things Lord." I believe God is doing BIG things. He is using our story, HIS story, to proclaim HIS name. 

Grief is a funny thing. I pray that in my grief God will be glorified. 

Until we meet again, my precious guy. 

It is Well by Bethel Music......