Thursday, December 30, 2010

One year later....still standing.

One year ago my world broke apart.  But today, one year and one day later, here I am  – still standing.  There is so much that I could say about this year, but here are a few things to sum it up:


  • God is good.  Faith doesn't prevent horrible, tragic things from happening – but it got me through this year.
  • God’s timing is perfect.  It may not be my timing.  It may not be what I think I want.  But it is perfect.
  • Love is the greatest gift.  It is the center.  The beginning and end. And Love never ends.


One year ago, I didn't know if I could ever feel normal again.  I was in so much pain.  My heart had been ripped out of my chest.  My body hurt.  I couldn't walk or pick up Colleen.  In that first week after the accident, there were days that I couldn't think about the next five minutes.  I had to stay focused on my immediate next activity – I couldn't handle thinking of even small amounts of time without Chris. Thinking about a year was impossible.  During that week I got a visit from a dear friend, who as he says, is also a member of the “exclusive club that is not that exclusive” – made up of those of us who have lost a loved one.  He and his family had been an inspiration to me as they dealt with their own tragedy and grief.  He sat next to me on the couch and held my hand as I cried and asked him in desperation, “Will I will be able to make it?”.  He said to me, “All I can say is that I feel different today than I did after a week, after a month, after a year. You will make it.”  Here I am, one year later, and I can say that it is true.

There are moments when I feel Chris so close that it is shocking.  At the lake, when I was sitting with Colleen and wishing he was with us, when a perfect flower fell into the lake right in front of us, floating in beautiful pink contrast to the blue water.  In my backyard, when I noticed for the first time that a tree that I thought was dead had tiny green buds of new life – coming out in the middle of winter. On Christmas Day in Ohio, when I noticed for the first time that snow glistens even when there is no sunshine. Every time I see Colleen, with Chris’ dimpled chin and soft brown eyes, laughing and playing and being a normal, happy two-year-old.  I know that he gives me little gifts – reminders that he, and God, will always be with me.

There will never be a day that I don’t think about Chris.  That I won’t love Chris.  That I won’t be thankful for him and our life together.  That I don’t miss him desperately. That I don’t see his face in Colleen and in my heart.  The hardest thing that I have ever done is to try to remain thankful.  It feels irrational.  It doesn’t come naturally.  But I had to decide – how do I want to live my life?  I remember being in the hospital – as I tried to wrap my brain around my new life – I knew that the last thing Chris would want is for this to ruin my life.  To ruin Colleen’s life. He loved us so much - and we loved him so much - that I knew that this could not be the end of my life.  It had to be the beginning of a new life.

One night during the first week while I was trying to fall asleep, I saw a flash of Colleen’s high school graduation.  I couldn’t see her face clearly, or see the audience or where we were, but I knew was there with our entire family.  I heard her say to me, “Thank you for giving me a beautiful life – even though I know now how hard that must have been.”  I knew at that moment that I would do that for her.  Give her a beautiful life full of joy and love – no matter how hard it was.

I am humbled by the love, support, and prayers that we have received this year.  The power of those prayers is immeasurable. We have felt them pour over us, surrounding us with that greatest gift of love. Thank you, thank you, thank you for lifting us up.

This has been the hardest year of my life.  I have stumbled, cried, and grieved through the valley of shadows.  But I have also lived and loved, praised and thanked, laughed and smiled, and remembered.   And here I am, one year later, still standing. Thanks be to God.

With love,
Kristin



Brooke Fraser - Shadowfeet
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4KiGN1j1No

Walking, stumbling on these shadowfeet
toward home, a land that I've never seen
I am changing, less and less asleep
made of different stuff than when I began
and I have sensed it all along
fast approaching is the day

[CHORUS]
When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
when the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
when time and space are through
I'll be found in you

There’s distraction buzzing in my head
saying in the shadows it's easier to stay
but I've heard rumors of true reality
whispers of a well-lit way

[CHORUS]

You make all things new
You make all things new
You make all things new
You make all things
You make all things

[CHORUS 2]
When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
Every fear and accusation under my feet
when time and space are through
I'll be found in you
when time and space are through
I'll be found in you
when time and space are through
I'll be found in you

6 comments:

  1. God is glorious. So thankful for you and your family. May each year bring even more love, laughter, and thankfulness!

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  2. Yesterday I received a Christmas note from a friend with four children - her husband died in Nov. 2010 and was a seminary classmate of mine. Your post - and her note - shared similar statements of struggle, pain, faith and hope. Blessings to you, each day, one at a time, in the coming year.

    Sarah Erickson ( a friend of Karen & Rob's from CTS)

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  3. Kristin - you and Colleen have been in my thoughts and prayers constantly through these past couple weeks. You are a remarkable, strong, and inspiring woman of God. Colleen is blessed to have you as a mother.

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  4. Wow. You are a blessing to me. You truly live by faith and I am blessed to learn from you.

    ReplyDelete