DID HE KNOW HE WAS DYING?

13 years 2 months. I've often daydreamed about what Aaron's final moments were like.

This is what you do when you have more questions than answers, I suppose.

Did he stare at the sky in peace?

Was there a strobe light effect of memories?

Was he able to pray?

Did he know he was dying?

I've created my own movie of what I hope his last breaths were like.

I picture calmness, reverent nature, stillness, and God's presence.

All while I texted him over and over in oblivion.

Since Aaron's death, I had asked God for something, anything, special.

Won't You open a sliver of the sky to reveal a magnificent sign?

Won't You have a deer suddenly appear out of the forest?

Won't You audibly reassure me?

And God, in His all-knowing kindness, did not grant my requests.

My pleas were met with silence.

And I have (thankfully) been able to surrender to His sovereignty.

Because His compassion and tenderness have come in other ways.

In the way Josh whistles around the house.

In the way Brad chases adventures.

In the way Paul looks while discussing Jesus.

In the way Andrew plays basketball.

God reminds me of His limitless love.

"The memory of the righteous will be a blessing." - Proverbs 10:7a