I have been unispired to write much lately. I have honestly been reliving the days at the hospital in my head and cant stop. Not that I am trying to ask for pity. Its like an outer body experience. I keep seeing everything that happened like it was in slow motion. I see the good and the bad. I see how my family and friends were there exactly when I needed them. The family in town and out of town that came to our aid. The friends who had come in and out of our lives over the years. The policemen in their uniforms. I saw how much my dad was loved and respected. On the other, I keep replaying the tears and sorrow and pain and the words of the doctors and the sound of the machines. I keep thinking why didnt I scream and rant and carry on then? Why did it have to happen the way it did? When can I be totally compassionate again for others instead of thinking about myself? I'm not sure I will ever lose the memory of those days or even that I would want to. I know my God's grace is sufficient for me. He's carrying me now. I'm just praying for some sense of normalcy in my life. My aunt mentioned planning for my birthday party to me today. While I think it is so sweet how our family celebrates occassions, I just can't imagine that day being a happy one. But I'm gonna try...because that's what my dad would want me to do. I'm going to go on my mission trip and share the gospel of Jesus with others and help others. God, please give me the strength and courage and joy and I promise I will give you all the praise and glory.

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