Miracle Monday~He knows ALL of our pain!

I haven't felt like posting for a while because this particular post has been on my heart for several weeks. Today is a day that is unpleasant to remember. Everyone else celebrates Cinco de Mayo, but it brings up waves of grief for me. I can't celebrate something that has caused so much pain for someone that I love. What I am about to share is the true story of my childhood best friend, Amy, and the loss of her brother, Ryan. It is not easy to write, but I hope that it honors Ryan's memory and brings comfort to Amy's family on this difficult milestone.

In May of 2004, I was visiting my husband's family one Saturday. My cell phone began ringing soon after we arrived. I glanced down and noticed that one of my parents was trying to reach me. They never call me when they know that we are visiting David's family, so I knew that something was wrong.

I walked outside to answer the phone and heard my mom sobbing as she wordlessly passed the phone off to my dad. By this time, I feared that one of my grandparents had passed away. I was deeply saddened and shocked by what my dad told me next. I have never witnessed my dad in tears, but he was choked up as he began to tell me why he had called. I will always remember how his voice cracked as he quietly said,"Stephanie, I just thought you would want to know that Amy's brother was murdered Wednesday night. He was shot in the driveway of his home and died in Bo's arms right there." He went on to tell me that the cause of the shooting was unknown. We would later find out that Ryan had been shot by two Hispanic gang members as a way to gain favor among the gang the itself. It just so happened that Ryan was a random victim of gang activity that took place on Cinco de Mayo.

After I ended the call with my dad, I stood motionless in the spot where I had answered that call. I remembered thinking that the particular tree where I stood would forever be connected with that call in my memory. It seemed surreal to be standing among the beautiful cherry blossoms on a warm spring day while receiving the worst news of my life. To this day, I can't look at that tree without recalling that horrific phone call.

I waited until the next day to phone Amy and her family, because I still had to return to my in laws and try to have a "normal" visit. The phone call that I made on that Sunday to Amy was the hardest call that I have ever made. It was Mothers' Day and my heart was grieved, as a mother, to think of Amy's mother, Linda, suffering a loss like that. I would like to say that I was strong as Amy picked up the call, but I fell to pieces when I heard her voice. It hurt that my childhood friend was enduring the worst of the worst and there was nothing I could do to lessen her pain. When we were five years old, I would walk her to class because I didn't want anyone to pick on my best friend. Here we were almost 30 years later and she was facing something that I couldn't fight off for her. I desperately wanted to attack them and torture those then unknown assailants in a way that they deserved.

Ryan's death became the biggest spiritual crisis that I have ever had. I wanted to know why Ryan was taken just as he was making significant, positive changes in his life. It just wasn't fair to his family and that made me angry. They shouldn't have to live out their lives without their son, their brother and their friend. He was a big hearted guy that looked out for others. Ryan got that kindness from his own family. They welcomed people into their home with open arms and were always a soft place for those that might be hurting. In fact, Amy's parents were like second parents to me when we lived on a naval base in Mississippi over 30 years ago. It didn't make sense that they were forced to grieve for Ryan.

Soon after he passed away, I heard a song by Casting Crowns that reminded me of my struggle with God. I love how the song Who Am I highlights that God knows and feels our hurt, but it took me a while to really understand that He is there. I think of Amy everytime I hear that song because I want her to know that He feels her pain and hurt, too. I don't have all of the answers about why it happened, but I do know that God can take something bad and bring some good from it. One of the things that I owe to Ryan is my search for spiritual answers. Prior to his death, my faith was just a routine and something that I thought I should take part in each week. Tonight, the lesson in our lifegroup was about forgiving others as God, through Christ, has forgiven us. It was hard to sit through that lesson because I haven't forgiven the two murderers for what they have done to Amy's family. I am not sure that it is my place to forgive them. I am not the one living daily with Ryan's loss. At the end, we were asked to write sometime this week on a piece of paper the name of someone we most needed to forgive.

I will be writing GOD on my paper because I am only beginning to understand that He did not kill Ryan. Instead, He is always there to heal our hearts when we have been wronged by the actions of others. God has held me when I angrily demanded answers and revenge for Ryan. And I don't think I am loved any less for questioning Him. God was there the night Bo and Linda held their dying son. He is with them now as they live through another milestone, another year without Ryan. It is a miracle to me that God knows our every hurt. Where else in the world can we find that depth of comfort?

Amy, I hope you know how much my family loves you and your parents. We don't talk as often I would like, but I pray for you each and every day. I wish we were still those happy little girls that almost got kicked off the school bus for singing Delta Dawn WAY too loud. Maybe we were best buddies then because God knew that you would need a longtime friend to understand your loss. Whatever the reason, I am grateful that I met you that long ago day while you and Cheryl played Barbies at the BOQ. Forever know that I am just a phone call away!

Visit Beth at A Mom's Life to read more Miracle Monday stories.