Day 418.

As I sit here at the end of 2025 it is the very last day where I can say, “remember last year when Tyler……..” Tomorrow, it will no longer be last year. I know that my eternal future has Tyler in it. I know that I am moving towards my son and my soul finds peace there but I still live in my flesh and the missing of my boy has taken up residence in the form of an ache that is always present.  I wrestle with how in the world did we get here. How did my precious son find himself in his room on a Saturday night and think the only option he had was to end his life? How? I long for the day my heart is no longer burdened by these questions. I’m thankful that I know the end. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John‬ ‭1‬:‭5‬. Hallelujah!

The hardest walk of my life was the one where I left the hospital without my son. I arrived with such hope. Clinging to the words, “cautiously optimistic.” Clinging to the hope that my God is a God of miracles, He is the Great Physician, the author of life and death. I wasn’t going to leave the hospital without Tyler and then I had to. The answer to our prayers was no. Tyler’s healing was Heaven. As we walked to the exit I remember my knees buckling and Andy having to hold me up and I protested all the way out. I repeated over and over, “I cannot leave him here, I cannot leave him here.” And then God clearly said to me, “I have him now.” And ever so gently Andy put one hand on my back and his other under my arm and walked me out of the hospital. I had spent days waiting for tests to be done and results to come in. Then they came. I watched his neurologist, round the corner with about 10 students behind him and I knew exactly what they were coming to tell us.  “I’m so sorry but the results show no brain activity and your son could not sustain life without support.” There it was, what I had known for a few days but hoped and prayed I was wrong.

At 11:26 pm on November 8, 2024, my world shattered to pieces. I kissed my son for the very last time and hey wheeled my him out of the room to take what he longer needed to save the lives of three others. And now I have to live each day without him here and I’m trying to take shattered pieces and glue them back together. Nothing will ever be the same and I have no choice but to move forward. That isn’t doom and gloom that is my reality. I don’t spend every day curled in the fetal position but I do spend every day with a broken heart.  Every smile has tears sitting right on the surface. Every wonderful moment is clouded by the missing of Tyler.  This is just what life looks like now. I’m grateful for how God’s word leads me on this road.

When we were asked, what is the first word that comes to mind when you think of 2025 mine was God. Now, there were plenty of other words that came rolling in quickly after. Awful, heartbreaking, painful, gut wrenching, you get the point. But first, God! There has been a great deal of growth on this road that I do not want to be on. In the spirit of being honest, I would give it all back in a heartbeat. I miss my boy. I wish there was a way to have the perspective I have gained while also having Tyler!

This is not the way I wanted to share about this goodness of God. I do not want this to be part of my story but here I am. I want to share about what God can do for the broken hearted. He has done it for me and He wants to do that for you. Take your pain, your broken heart, take all of it and give it to God. It doesn’t erase all of it but it does give it purpose and when we have purpose we can find our way forward. God is good, even in this!

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians‬ ‭12‬:‭9‬-‭10‬ ‭