The Morning She Became

Once upon a time..

There was a young lady who sat in the backseat of a joyful van.
She received a text.
As she read the text, her facial expression fell.
She sat in silence.
All the laughing and joy faded from her hearing, and all she could do was look up and quietly say,

“My grandfather died”

The few who heard these three words simply bowed their heads and prayed.
They did not take these three words as their own to tell the rest, but instead they sat in solemn silence and prayer.
The first teardrop slowly rolled down her pale cheek.
Then the rest followed.
When she felt ready, she told the rest, and the van pulled off the road and into an empty parking lot.
Another young lady, without hesitation, jumped out of the passenger seat and rushed to sit beside her and comfort her.
The van sat still in silence.
It could have been ten minutes.
It could have been thirty.
Time lost meaning in such a moment as that.

The death of a believer is a joyful death.
For, “If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.”
(Romans 14:8)
But not knowing whether the death was of a believer or an unbeliever.
It’s hard.
Unspeakably hard.

Later that night, a young man gathered the other young men together and simply said,
“She has to know that we’re here for her and that we love her.”
And so they did show these things,
But through the smiles and encouragement, there was still the pain inside.

However, the following morning something happened.
Something truly moving.
In the play she was performing in, she had many parts, but two stuck out.
These were two parts that portrayed two historical people who had either tragically lost loved ones, or were in the process of loosing them.
And so the quote was lived out which says,
“I’ll give two cents to anyone who can act, but I’ll give a million bucks to anyone who can become.”

So sir, I believe you owe a lot.

During the play,
The lyrics rang out,

“When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul.”

As an ensemble sang this arrangement,
She sat in tears.
Each line in the script became her own.
Each tear became her own.
Each color which painted her heart in that moment became a  beautiful canvas for the audience to see.
And as they say, “A picture is worth a thousand words,”
This picture was worth ten thousand words.
And although she was burdened with sorrow,
Her heart spoke nothing but this,

“When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul.”

That was a morning I’ll never forget,
Because that morning, she didn’t perform.
She became.

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