I honestly don’t know where to start on this one.

Usually I have some sort of idea of where I want one of these blogs to land, but today I’m just sitting here, reeling…

Last Sunday, while listening to the divine, throat-lumping music that Church of the Highlands injects into my veins each week… I couldn’t decide whether to bow my head and let the tears hit my shoes, or throw it back and let them run into my ears.

This has been a difficult year.

Regrets, Grief, Disappointments, Almosts, Not Quites, and Soul Searches.

This year has brought some of the highest highs for me, and some of the absolute lowest of lows.

In February I accepted a new job that took me across the country helping people make their everyday jobs easier. Hustling through airports, making flight connections, and Face-timing with my family every night thousands of miles away.

In March I woke up to an early morning text from my best friend telling me his brother died in his sleep. A soul-shaking time that tried the souls of the precious people I call mine. I held him and his mother in my arms, cried with them, and remembered a brother and a son, with them. I watched a family receive a line with hundreds of people into their arms. Arms that had no life, no energy, no want to, nor will to. A family that means the world to me lost a piece of their jenga tower. Everything’s leaning to the side that’s caving… the side that’s visibly broken… the side that hurts. When I’m with them I don’t know what to say, what to do, or when to leave. Honestly… I’ve found myself just watching them breathe, or at least try to. It’s as if they’ve lost a lung, or valve in their heart. It’s labored and uncomfortable. I hope they know how much I love them.

This summer brought new friendships that I hold near and dear. There’s nothing better than a neighbor that calls on a Tuesday night and says “come on over, we made extra.” From Saturday yard work and college football, to Sunday mimosas… I love these people. They’re the ones that make the week days worth weekdaying. You guys know who you are.

The last leg of this year so far has delivered shocks, blessings in beautiful disguise, awareness, and a breathtaking perspective.

I know now.

I know that our souls are manned with the armor of Jesus himself. The armor that takes the brunt of all things hard, and what we call un-endurable. That Jesus armor that lets the shrapnel hit our legs and brings us to our knees, is the same armor that throws in a set of knee pads and a life vest when the waters are just too deep.

The very armor we cursed and damned to hell this year is the very armor that made us scream out to Him for mercy… The God that gave and has now taken away… is still there. Right there.

Please know… that tower you built… doesn’t have to cave, it doesn’t have to break, and it doesn’t have to hurt… forever.

But if it does, and that life vest can’t hold the weight… remember those knee pads… He WILL meet you at the bottom.

Thirty Three… Let’s do this.