Three Years

Three years can be an impossibly long time. It can also be the blink of an eye. This all depends on your perspective.

On September 3, 2010, something went terribly wrong.

I witnessed a murder.

I had just turned 23. (My dad turned 52 that day!)  

I saw the darker side of reality – the ‘bad stuff happens’ side. And the sad truth is most of us are not immune to the bad stuff. It usually seeps – or burst in – to every one’s life at one point or another.

There is pain. There is sorrow. Grief. Rebellion. Depression. And so, so many tears of sadness. There is fear. Justifiable anger. Confusion.

My soul experienced a burn. One that buried itself really deep inside my soul.

For so long, I felt as though I had to ‘act’ like a young twentysomething should. Going through the motions was exhausting. Some days it still is. Because when you suddenly lose your luster for life, the relationship with living is tiresome. And when you do enjoy life but do not trust it, you try to control everything on your own. And that is a very big job. But I kept at it.

Until I just could not. I had to quit fighting for control. And when I did, things began to shift. Throughout the course of the past three years, seeds have been planted. Some small. The chance to finish my Peace Corps service in Ghana. Some big. My first 'grown up' job after eight months of unemployment. Some failed. And some rose through the ashes, shining light on tiny bits of new growth. These seedlings were fighting for life. 

They were my hope. They led me to love too generous to deny. And have allowed me to slowly turn my focus back to the good news. To shift my perspective to a place I am comfortable with. 

To borrow a quote from Mitch Albom, I know: “One day can bend your life.” And though it may not be for the better, life will be OK again... and I believe can even be restored to great.

For T.C.M., forever remembered.