Dear April 5th,
You suck. I am sorry, I wish there was a better way for me to say it, but seriously….you suck. For the past two years you have been the worst day in both 2012 and 2013.
In 2012 you changed my family and my lives forever with my father losing his job. We no longer worked together, and I lost confidence in where I served. Work made me sick. It was’t your fault April 5th, but you were the worst day. You were the day that made me have to eat lunch in my car, and cry on my drive into work. You were the worst.
In 2013, you changed my life forever again by being the day we lost my grandfather. It was hard to see my family hurt. It broke my heart. He was gone. We had the blessed assurance of knowing where he was, but it didm’t make the sting of death hurt any less.
But today is another day. Instead of dwelling on the hurt that has been in the past I am going to be thankful and joyful for where I have come from. April 5, 2014 marks 9 months since my move to Alabama. It marks 9 months since I changed my life forever. These 9 months have not been easy. They have been anything but easy. But April 5th, you remind me that life isn’t always easy. April 5th, you’ll always remind me of my dad and the courageous, and loving man that he is. How he has supported me as I strive to answer what I believe the Lord has called me to do. My dad, who has stood by me and encouraged me to dream big. The man who had lunch with me everyday at Shellpoint and taught me to how to best serve the resident we loved. April 5th, you will forever make me thankful for Jimbo. For the man that challenged me, made me laugh, taught me countless stories, and loved me. He encouraged me to follow the Lord, to serve those around me especially the oppressed, and to above all else love.
So, April 5th, you are not my favorite. You have broken my heart. But, from now on I choose to look at those tragedies as joys. I choose hope over bitterness, love over hate. I choose to be thankful for where I am today, and to acknowledge the pains of the past and to remember the sweet impacts that they had. I choose to remember the impact that the time I worked with my dad had and not continue to digest the bitter pill of his lost. I choose to find joy in the new adventure that I am on, pursuing the career that I love. I choose to remember my Jimbo and all of our porch talks, cribbage games, and laughs over jellybelly jelly beans and rum and coke. I choose to remember his kind smile and the pride he had in me, and the way he loved my family.
I choose joy and remembrance on April 5th, 2014.
Jimbo and I
My Dad and I