You Wouldn't Cry

I think perhaps today was more difficult, in many ways, than the day of the funeral. It was my first day back to work and the real world. Today was the first day since the day Lissi Dear died that I've had to force myself to realize that time and the world have not stopped. I am not in Ohio anymore. And while I love living here in Georgia, it was helpful to be in Ohio with all my family. This is the first day I've not had any family members around to laugh with and reminisce about Melissa with. The day of the funeral, I was determined to keep my composure until after I did the reading, and I did. As I found out today, it is far more difficult to keep my composure for 9 hours at work. It's also far more difficult to break down without a plethora of people who love me, to hug me when I do. Especially Tony - it's incredibly difficult to cry and not have him there to hug me and whisper to me that it's okay, and to remind me over and over that God has got my dear sister in His loving hands.

The whole morning I kept expecting my phone to go off, with a text saying "Good morning beautiful. Have a good day! Love you!" from Lissi. My phone didn't ring with that text today. It never will again. It's realities like this that seem to be the most difficult so far. Each one I make is a little like hearing the news of her passing all over again.

Today, when my boss got home, I said goodbye to the kiddos and got in my car. That was the moment my composure broke. And my first thought was that there was no one there to hug me....It seems like it's the silliest of times when I forget that the One who is the greatest Comforter. So I poured out my heart to God, and of course that helped...but I was still crying.

Without really thinking about it, I had put in Mandisa's cd Freedom that morning, so it was still on during my drive home. It finally came to the last song, and while it induced some tears, it also calmed them. It fit what my heart was crying perfectly. And it was the perfect reminder of the beautiful reality that Melissa had rested in Him. I remember, shortly after Melissa's surgery, we had a long conversation. We had talked about salvation and we talked through the Gospel. The conversation ended with us praying together. After my flight home last Thursday morning, God had perfectly planned a conversation with my aunt which allowed me to know that she did indeed cling to Him for her salvation. So I needn't cry for her today. Instead, I will keep singing Hallelujah.