Number 3

Last night it was confirmed that the middle brother of my student Kaitlyn, a 5 year old, was taken off life support and and joined his older brother and sister in death yesterday afternoon. 

This morning, I woke up angry.  I'm angry that older apartments don't have to update to new fire codes.  I'm angry that three precious children died senselessly.  I'm angry that I feel helpless and can't do anything to fill the hole in this family's hearts.  I'm angry a bright, lovely girl with blooming talents in academics, leadership, and orchestra was taken before the world could see what she had to offer. I'm angry darling 11 and 12 year olds are having to experience the loss of a friend at such a young age.  I'm angry I don't know if Katelyn knew Jesus and that I don't do a good enough job of getting to know that side of my students.  I'm angry at myself for not trusting my precious Maker, who always knows what He's doing, and getting angry at the world instead instead.  It's vicious.

I hadn't cried or shown emotion over Thursday morning's events except for a brief few minutes right after we were told the news before the start of Thursday's school day.  With 5 classes to teach each day and a grade wide field trip coming up on Tuesday that I'm organizing, there wasn't time to process.  Well, this morning, I still didn't process; I reacted.  I was horrid to everybody.  I couldn't make decisions about anything and wanted to be alone one minute and with people the next.  I even tried to give away my sweet Bailey to my parents!  What a nut!  Poor Isaac and my parents didn't have a clue what was wrong.  About 4:30 I finally broke down and was able to cry...and cry and cry.  Boy, did that make a difference. 

I'm still angry.  I had to go to the bedroom and cry some more in the middle of the Aggie game (and fell asleep...but thankfully I woke up to see the last 2:30 of the game...WHOOP!).  I've loved so many little ones this year, in Zambia and in Houston, who have died, and I'm a bit overwhelmed.  However, God  is good.  My grief is not bigger than Him, and as much as I want to run from loving people and things right now, that's not how Christ has called me to live.  I long for Eden.  I long to love fearlessly.  I've often been accused of loving deeply and recklessly, and I long for the freedom to do so without fear.  I know God is faithful, and He'll hold me on the days I'm angry and on the days that are ok.

For now, I'm learning anew the joy of prayer and sweet silence with my Jesus.  Come, Lord Jesus.  Reign in our hearts and in this world.