Trusting in God's Goodness -- One Year Later

Standing on this mountaintop 

Looking just how far we've come

Knowing that for every step

You were with us

Kneeling on this battleground

Seeing just how much You've done

Knowing every victory

Was Your power in us

Scars and struggles on the way

But with joy our hearts can say

Never once did we ever walk alone

Carried by Your constant grace

Held within Your perfect peace

Never once, no, we never walked alone

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Tomorrow, April 23rd, marks one year since Mom went into the hospital. I just can't believe it. In many senses, I can't believe how quickly the time has passed. It feels as though the events surrounding her death have just occurred. But in many other senses, I feel as though I can't remember a time before I felt the pain of her absence.

I remember everything about April 23rd, 2013. I remember what kind of day I had at work. I remember group texting with my mom and siblings. I remember when she asked me if I wanted to have dinner with her at Logan's. I remember what I ordered and what we talked about. I remember every feeling I had as the events of the rest of the evening unfolded - every fear, every annoyance, every joke we told as we waited for her to be transferred from the ER to the hospital.

But no matter how hard I try, I have no memory of the day before. No memory of work. No memory of any exchanges with her. No memory of the blissful ignorance of what was to come.

I look back and I wonder if God was somehow preparing me for what was about to happen, and that I missed it. I don't know. I don't think I ever could have imagined that two and a half weeks later I'd be sitting in a funeral home with my siblings discussing caskets and service arrangements. I wonder in what ways God may have been preparing Mom for what she was about to go through. She never discussed it. I truly don't think she knew. 

But there is one thing of which I am sure: that neither she, nor I, nor any of my family ever walked this journey alone. As we approach the upcoming anniversaries, I know memories and feelings will come back in a flood. Memories of the time I spent with Mom in the hospital. Memories of waiting through her surgery. Memories of the heartache of learning she'd gone to heaven, and the frustration in knowing no one here could tell us why. Memories of calling family members with the news, and making plans we never thought we'd have to make. Memories of dragging myself out of bed after restless nights, hoping what we'd just been through was some kind of terrible nightmare.
But those are not the only memories that will surface. I'll remember the peace that Mom had the morning of her surgery. I'll remember the rest that finally came when friends prayed for it on my behalf. I'll remember crawling into bed at the end of some days, knowing that the only way I survived my heartbreak is because God didn't let go of me.
Above, I've included lyrics to a Matt Redman song, "Never Once." I remember the first time I heard it, shortly after Mom's death. I hated it. I never thought I would look back with thankfulness for the ways I now see that God was with me.
I've grown to love the words to this song. Yes, many days of the last year have been harder than I can put into words. And there are many things I wish I could change about them. But I would never change the way I've come to know God's presence through the darkest of times. I would never change the way I've come to see how fare God's grace has carried my family. I would never change the way that now, I can truly say with joy, that I've never walked alone.