:)

Heavy Heart.

Heaven broke into this moment, it's too wonderful to speak
You're worth all of me, you're worth all of me
So let me recklessly love you, even if I bleed
You're worth all of me, you're worth all of me

You're gonna have all of me, you're gonna have all of me,
Cause you're worth every fallen tear, you're worth facing any fear
You're gonna know all my love, even if it's not enough
Enough to mend our broken hearts, giving you all of me is where I'll start


I have heard this song every day for the last week on my drive to class in the mornings. Every morning I cry. I didn't know the story behind the song at first, but it felt like an anthem. Once I heard the meaning behind it I cried even more. The strength, the courage, the patience, the humility Matt Hammitt and his family went through this past year is incredible. If you haven't heard this song, you need to: "All of Me". Anyway...It's been a constant prayer for me "so let me recklessly love you, even if I bleed". Because I am falling in love with Jesus. I'm not even close to where I want to be with Him, but I am so much closer than I was a year ago. How I go about my day is so much different. I am so much more positive about things. God shows me something good daily, even during the rainy dreary cold weather we've had the last few days, even when I worked a lot this weekend, even when I was stressed to my core. God is here. I ache for you, Jesus.

"I want to know you.
I want to hear your voice.
I want to know you more.
I want to touch you.
I want to see your face.
I want to know you more."

This song is really on my heart tonight. How I yearn for this closeness with God, this relationship, this love. 

Bittersweet Morning.

My alarm went off, I hit snooze. Snooze. And again another snooze. I took my long, yet routine drive to South Bend. It’s rainy, but not raining. 35 MPH the whole way there. Too slow for me. Too many stop lights. Too many kids walking to school. I drop off Mads, and continue my drive. I’m listening to Pulse FM on the way there, switching back and forth between that and U93. Rob and AJ are talking about 9/11. Yesterday I started crying just watching a memorial commercial (is that what you would call it?) about the Ground Zero memorial opening this year. Anyway, they’re talking about this being the 10th year since that devastating day. Rob and AJ asked callers to call in and talk about where they were on that day, 10 years ago.

10 years ago I was taking ISTEP in the fourth grade. Mom was 9 months pregnant with Elizabeth. Dad had just been laid off. We sat glued to the TV when I got off the bus. I knew nothing until I got home (When I think about the fact we weren’t told at school, it upsets me, but I understand the reasoning).

I’m listening to these people call in, and I’m raining by this point. Tears streaming down my face as I wait at a stop light, watching kids cross. Watching students walk to school. Watching them continue with their daily routine as a woman is talking on the radio about getting ready to leave for the South Bend airport that morning. About how it felt like any other day until she saw that second plane hit the tower on TV. How she fell to the ground.

How fast things can change.

I think what gets me the most is how much I take this for granted. I don’t think about 9/11 all the time, but the woman who lost her husband does every day. The family of the firefighter who never came home to his kids, they don’t need reminded. I remember I gave a speech during a convocation in 4th grade about 9/11. We talked about it as a class, as a school, as a community, as a country. We’ll talk about it again now. We don’t forget, but we don’t always remember. What happened that day, and the days to follow affect me more today, this morning, then they did when I was 9. The images, the videos, as I’m torturing myself watching them online now. This morning it hurt my heart. This morning I felt 9/11. I don’t think I could say that before.

I felt the terror, the pain, the smoke entering their lungs as the flames grew bigger. I could feel the seat belt get tighter as the plane began to descend. My body grew tighter. My muscles. I could feel the screams. The debris. I could see people jumping (that is one of the worst parts to watch). The fear. And I know what I could feel, still doesn’t even compare to that day: to that family, that friend, that lover.