Six Months Since

6 months since we held you in our arms. 6 months and 5 days since we last heard your infectious laughter and saw your sweet smile. I've begged God to rewind time, to give us another chance, to raise you from your grave and give you back to us. 6 months without you feels like an eternity, and yet time feels frozen.

I replay the events of that dreaded weekend over and over again in my head, questioning, searching, pleading. I've questioned my own existence, wondering why it seems I've been sentenced to a life of suffering. I can't explain the why's, I can rationalize them to an extent, but ultimately this is where faith comes into play.

I've always thought faith meant believing things into existence, but it's actually simply believing to the point of trusting. Believing in the capabilities of God, but trusting His perfect will. Believing God to perform, but trusting Him when He doesn't. Believing God is able, but trusting Him when He says "not this time." Believing God to get you through, but trusting Him when you can't see how.

Sometimes faith looks like praying for another child's life to be spared when yours wasn't. Praying and pleading for a man of God to be healed of brain cancer though your faith has been shaken to its core. Praying through the fear, the doubts, and the questions, because someone else's life depends on it.

And sometimes faith looks like praising God despite the unanswered prayers. It looks like a heartbroken mother kneeling at an altar just to feel close to Jesus. It looks like a husband struggling to make ends meet sitting on a church pew on Sunday morning trying to be strong for his family. It looks like a pastor showing up service after service to a sleepy and dwindling congregation.

I don't have the answers for life's many questions, nor do I understand why saints must suffer, but I do have faith in Jesus. Without it I have no hope, so I press on.