Five years is a long time and it’s not, too. But five years without someone you love is about the equivalent of a painful eternity. The last time February 13th landed on a Monday, I remember telling one of my friends, “This is the best Monday I’ve had in a really long time.” At the moment, I had no idea that day would change my life forever. The worst part is, I can still recall that night five years ago so vividly in my mind. 

 

I remember sitting on the kitchen floor, sobbing and praying, both harder than I ever had before. Tate, two years old at the time, was wrapped in my arms, completely unaware of what was going on. He cried, too, though, knowing something wasn’t right. I kept trying to muster up enough energy to stand and look out the window, hoping to see car lights coming to the house. 

 

I remember having to call my dad, who was busy at school with conferences. The phone rang a few times before a lady picked up. I told her I needed to talk to my dad. She must’ve been able to tell I was crying because after informing me he was busy, she said, “Is everything ok?” No, it wasn’t. A few moments later, my dad’s voice came through. 

 

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

“Dad, Blake got in an accident.”

Silence. 

Panic. I could hear it in his voice, yet he assured me everything would be ok. 

 

I remember everyone telling me it’d be ok. That night, that’s what everyone said. “It’ll be ok.” But the longer I sat at home alone with Tate, just waiting to hear from anyone who knew anything, I wandered what if it wasn’t. 

 

I remember my neighbor coming to pick us up from the house. After being told it would be my mom coming to get us, I was confused and still uninformed. 

 

I remember having to drive by the accident to get to the hospital. I looked the other direction, still seeing the reflection of the ambulance lights in the window. Noah, who was finally with us at this point, nearly screamed. “Halle, it’s bad,” he said between sobs. “His car is totaled.” I didn’t want to believe him. 

 

I remember getting to the hospital and being quickly ushered to a private room, hoping to see my older brother soon. The rest of the night I’ve tried to block out of my memory, but it’s still painfully clear. My parents told me and my little brothers that Blake didn’t survive the accident. 

 

That night was the hardest of my life. I was so confused and broken and angry. It didn’t make any sense why God would do this. Life looked differently from then on. For a while, I was pretty angry at God. I so desperately wanted by brother back and it stung every time I realized that couldn’t happen. 

 

In hindsight, though, it all makes sense. I am who I am today because of that night. I have had to rely on God with all that I am because of Blake. I’ve always struggled with understanding why bad things happen to good people, but I get it now. 

 

It all happens for the glory of God. People came to know Christ for the first time because of Blake’s life. I have a stronger faith than I ever would have if my life worked out exactly how I wanted. So why should I doubt God in that? Everything that happens is part of His plan, one way or another. It’s not our job to figure out the why, but it’s our job to praise Him amidst the confusion. 

 

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” -Romans 8:28

 

I wish more than anything that my brother was here today. So many things have happened in the past five years that I’ve wished he were there or that I could call him and tell him about it. It breaks my heart to know he won’t be able to escort me up the Tulip Tower in May. Yet, I have no doubt in my mind that he’s praising the ways God is working in my life. He’s with me through it all, just not how I once thought he would be. Our Lord works in mysterious ways sometimes, but it’s in ways so much bigger and better than we have the power to understand. He is so good!!!! Share that joyful truth with someone today.