A Rough (and As of Yet Unnamed) Season

We are smack-dab in the middle of a southeast Texas summer. That means heat and humidity so oppressive it's difficult to be outside for long periods of time. It's also hurricane season, which is basically half a year of keeping our eyes on the Gulf of Mexico. We are encouraged to stock up on necessities and to have plans in place when strong storms head our way. Here's the kicker: We know they are coming, and we can do something about it. We can escape sweltering heat by seeking out air-conditioned bliss. Hurricanes are either 'ridden out' in our homes or a reason to hit the road for safer territory. We know these things are coming and can have plans for the minor (and sometimes not-so-minor) inconveniences they cause. This is not the case for the season our family is entering. The next few months have the makings of a very rough time ahead as we muddle our way through memories of the last few months we spent with our sweet Paige.

July. The month of her last relapse. Boyce and I have different triggers, but we fight these incredibly bad moments where we relive the devastating news we never dreamed we would hear. August. We reached Paige's 16th birthday. It's a milestone for all teens, but for our girl--it was so much more. It would be the last birthday she would celebrate here on Earth. September and October. Paige put on such a brave front, but the disease was progressing and zapping her energy. Quality time became more important than ever before. We played games and watched movies--and even got her out of the house on occasion. It was about making the most of every minute we had together. It was about finding joy and hope in the midst of the storm that was raging all around us.

She's been gone nine months. Nine months. Since Paige left, it feels like I'm living in a very strange time warp. I'm here in the day-to-day 'busy-ness' of life, taking care of Jeremy and Boyce and everything else I need to do. However, when I'm in my 'Paige Zone' (which happens quite often), it's like time has slowed to a crawl--or has stopped altogether. What's crazy to me is how those versions of myself--the busy, present one and the always-in-a-fog one--overlap and somehow occur simultaneously. What I do know is that my heart still seems to break a little more every day without that girl here.

It's been a difficult, heart-wrenching nine months reaching the firsts without Paige here. The first Thanksgiving. The first Christmas. Mother's Day. Father's Day. As each one neared, our hearts seemed to get heavier and heavier.  Paige always made special days even more special--it might have been through a unique or silly gift, a handmade card, or even a day of baking her favorite treats. Had it not been for Jeremy, I may have spent many of the firsts simply summoning the strength to get out of bed. Of course, that wouldn't have been fair to him--and it certainly would not have allowed God to keep doing the work He is doing in our lives. Each and every time we hit one of those terrible patches of the road, God gives us the strength we need to keep going. Every. Single. Time.

If you've followed our journey for any length of time, you know we are firm believers in the power of prayer and the sovereignty of Almighty God. If you are so led, please pray for our family as we continue to move forward one step at a time. Not a day goes by that one of us isn't experiencing some kind of struggle with losing Paige. As we head into this rough season, I cling to the hope of God's promises. I know He has a purpose for my time here, just as there was a purpose for the time He gave my sweet girl. Through the struggles and challenges of life, He is always good. He is always faithful. Always.

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.   Lamentations 3:22-23