Last night was one of those moments that didn't fit into my "God Box." I've been listening to a series by John Piper. His quote said, "wimpy theology makes wimpy women." Last week when I heard it my heart soared to have the faith to rest deeply in my Father's hands, regardless of where He leads. Last night my heart screamed, "You are mean, God" as I listened to heartbroken cries. And in the same breathe I whispered, "You are good." I know the truth, and in these dark places, I can't imagine life with out the hope of my Savior. But sometimes that doesn't quiet the terrifying gasps or still the tears.
I've failed. I've failed as a mom, a friend, a wife, a daughter, a sister...But I serve a God who takes those places my heart doesn't dare to go, and creates a fountain of freedom. I serve a God who took the punishment and curse of death, and transformed it into a pathway into his presence. I serve a God who restores the tears of daughters, mothers, fathers, and wives. I know these things, but right now...my thoughts are a lot louder than those truths. Jamie and I are broken, numb and sad. So we can't even dream where Ashleigh and the family are, but as Jamie said last night, "Aaron was a man who loved his friends, loved his daughters, loved his wife so deeply, and all of that reflected how great he loved his God."