Three years. It seems like forever, yet at the same time, it seems like just yesterday.

It’s been three years since I’ve heard your voice. Three years since I’ve heard your infectious laughter. Three years since I’ve called you at three in the morning and you let me come over and watch movies and you stayed up with me, just so I didn’t feel alone.

Three years breaks my heart. Three years makes me really appreciate the 23 years I got with you, however it seems so cut short. Three years feels like way too long to go without my Momma’s advice.

However, you left me with the legacy of your life. You reminded me that it’s one step at a time. You reminded me that God holds a light to our present steps and motions. You taught me that it’s okay to not know how the future is going to go, and it’s okay trust Jesus step by step.

More than anything, my Mom taught me that fear is only an emotion…. If we allow it to be. She taught me that all of us get scared, especially about the unknown, but her faith and her unwavering dedication to trusting God with such uncertainty showed me that even though life may not turn out how you want, God is ALWAYS good. He is ALWAYS sovereign. He is ALWAYS faithful.

My life looks nothing like I thought it would at 26 (or regardless of age, wherever I’m at). I’ve learned that heartache doesn’t dissipate. I’ve learned that there will always be reminders of heartache.

Forgiveness doesn’t wipe out the existence or the memory or hurt, it simply allows us to graciously accept our current circumstances. Healing is taking brokenness in stride. It’s understanding that the process of being mended is a delicate balance of joy and suffering.

In order to truly appreciate the journey of healing, you have to know where you started and came from. To see where God brought you to, or out of.  Learning to walk with faith doesn’t always mean walking without grief. But there is a sacred beauty in the joy that comes from that refinement. The scars we bear are beautiful because they reflect the scars of a man who took on what we couldn’t. Jesus. 

Ecclesiastes says that “Everything is made beautiful in it’s time.” There is a time for everything. When we hold onto pain, anger and hurt we miss SO much that is happening to us. When we graciously accept all of this as a tool of refinement, we are able to see past the emotion of heartbreak and see how God is using it to shape us.

In all the “times” that God speaks about love and hate, I’m reminded that when we hate, God is love. In our time of tearing, God is mending. In our time of quiet, God speaks louder than ever. In our time of grieving, God teaches us to dance.

This isn’t a post about having all or really any of the answers, it’s a post about being reminded of that fact that Jesus is sovereign over everything.  My Mom’s legacy reminds me to take every day as if you’re being lead by a lantern.

Every step is lit only one by one. I may not be able to see every step in my future or know where it leads, but I rest in that fact that it’s covered by Jesus. I may have my moments of questioning and doubting, but I am so  reassured of the grace of God. I feel freedom to ask what he wants to show me. I feel freedom to ask where he wants me to go and what He wants to do with my life.

All this to say, I feel like my Mom played such a huge role in me trusting Jesus. Her future was SO uncertain. Her life was ended much sooner than she (or any of us) had planned, but Jesus had planned something different and she rested so peacefully in that. She is my legacy. She is my reminder that Jesus is ALWAYS good. And most importantly, she is my reminder that what I do with my life is not of myself, but of Him.