See You Soon, Michael

There really is no good or easy way to make this post, and there is so much I still have to process. I am even backdating this post, because I just want to mark it here since my posts may not make a lot of sense otherwise. And while I know that the sequence or accuracy of my blog ultimately doesn't matter, I know that I will want a record of this time. Not because I want to remember the hard and the terrible things that have happened. But because the Lord has been so kind and gracious to take care of us in the midst of it all. And that is what I want to remember. 

So for now, I will just copy and paste the post I made on social media to let our family and friends know of what happened to Michael. But the short version? I got a text message on Friday saying that they were taking him to the ER, there were no extra details. By that night, I was booking a flight to Texas. I arrived Saturday morning, and we said our goodbyes on Sunday. Helping my parents plan my brother's funeral was not at all something I ever thought I would do. My brain is still trying to catch up, and it feels too big right now to process. So I'm just trying to take it one day at a time.

I am so very thankful that Michael is with Jesus, that he is whole and healthy and healed. That we are not grieving without hope. I am thankful for the outpouring of love and support and prayers that have surrounded us in these hard days, both in Texas and Virginia. We have been overwhelmed by the body of Christ and how they have shown up to mourn with and care for us during this time. In ways that I didn't even know we needed because I was just too tired or shocked to know. I am thankful for how the Lord has offered His comfort and strength and guidance in every step. I know that He is near, and that He will be in the days ahead.

From social media:

The last 48 hours have been a whirlwind of shock and disbelief and grief. On Friday, my brother Michael experienced a massive hemorrhagic stroke in his brain stem. There really are no words to describe our family’s heartbreak and loss. Anyone who knew my brother, knew that he would give you his right arm if you needed it, so it was no surprise to learn that he chose to be an organ donor. Today, in the midst of the heartache, we get to witness light and hope as my brother (true to character) selflessly gifts life.

As we are in the midst of this Advent season, I cannot help but feel the overwhelming weight of the darkness now. How this is absolutely not how it is supposed to be. A mother and father should never have to bury their son. A new bride should not have to say goodbye to her groom.

But Jesus…

John 1:4-5

In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Emmanuel, God with us, came to shine light into this darkness. He came so that one day, all these awful things would be undone. The darkness has not overcome the light. As my kids’ Advent devotional says, “He will make the wrong things right, and the dark things light.”

I don’t know why this happened. And oh man, does it hurt. But I do know that death and darkness do not get the final word. We do not grieve without hope. Michael is rejoicing with his beloved Savior. One day, there will be no more suffering, no more tears.

I love you, bud. I’m so proud of you and how you chose to serve and love people one last time. They’re giving you a whole honor walk and flying a flag. That AND your masters degree?? You win. See you soon