Friday, as I was getting the house ready for Paige’s first visit home from college, as I was hurrying up to wait on resolution to weeks-old open issues weighing us down, as I was cleaning out the laboratory that constantly seems to grow in the backseat of our car,

I hit myself in the eye with the car door. Hard.

It felt like an eye poke, and I also managed to hit the outside of my eye as well. I didn’t cry or swear, but whatever noise I made brought Rod to the garage to check on me.

It was painful, and annoying, to the degree that when I woke up Saturday morning, I was actually disappointed not to be sporting a big ol’ shiner.

Honestly, with how the last 6 weeks have gone, I feel like I should have a bump or bruise to show for it.

Why these days have been hard is not important. I know that. I was just telling a very sympathetic friend the other day that even when our problems are big problems, they are just middle class American problems.

As long as my family is safe and healthy, in all honesty, what complaint do I have?

This leads me back to thoughts of Sara.

The internet’s Gitzen Girl went home to Jesus last night. Her suffering, her struggle, her constant agony, her lonlieness is all over. If you are reading this and do not believe in heaven, again, you might check out now. But for me, Sara’s life and death and the way she handled both have become a turning point. I want the kind of grace she had to embrace her difficult circumstances. I want her ability to choose joy in the midst of hurts and turmoil that no one else can see. And I want the forefront of my mind – Every Single Day – to be the thought that this world, this life, these circumstances, are not the be-all, end-all for me.

Like Sara, I am going home one day. And everything will be perfect there.

Yes, tonight, I mourn for this world, that we have lost Sara. I mourn for those whose problems are not so middle-class-American, or who do not have the capacity to deal with their problems in faith. But I rejoice for Sara, for her freedom from the worries and limitations of life, and the fact that she will never again have to choose joy.
It will simply be hers.

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