I woke up early today, unable to sleep and checked my emails. One email confirmed an automatic payroll transfer that I had scheduled for our business. I remembered it was Friday.

Dominic and I had these plans booked to take a little trip just the 2 of us to Sedona AZ for 6 days. The kids were going to stay with their grandparents and we were going to board a plane at 9am on Friday the 27th.

Today on Friday the 27th at 9am instead, our family will be having a private viewing of our son. We covet your prayers specifically during this time. Our kids know what we will be doing but honestly, with each new “step” in this process we have been hit afresh with emotions. I suspect today will be no different. I think I said it before, I am both desperate and terrified to see him.

I have had this pain and heaviness in my chest since Tuesday. On Wednesday a cough developed and each time I coughed it hurt even worse. Sometimes taking a deep breath is painful and difficult. We tried several things over the course of a few days to see if we could alleviate the symptoms and determine what was going on but nothing helped. So yesterday we decided I should be checked out at the local acute care.

I have to apologize to the other people who had been waiting longer than me, apparently when a 40+ yr old woman comes in with any time of chest pain it is taken pretty seriously. People were outspoken and angry that I was seen right away. Part of me wanted to scream “if you only knew what I have been through…”

I have had pneumonia before and it felt like this, I thought that might be what is going on. But after a chest x-ray and an EKG and some blood work the Dr told me the pain was likely from anxiety and stress. Death has left me with a physical pain that has not gone away. I have had a panic attack before, felt anxious and overwhelmed but it never lasted 3+ days, it never felt like this…

I feel almost embarrassed to admit that but I realize that the discussion around mental health starts with me too. Maybe Isaac had days, weeks like this. Living with a physical weight, a pain in his chest that wouldn’t go away. I keep rubbing my upper chest trying to help it somehow, but it doesn’t stop.

The weather looks like it is really going to cause some travel problems and could affect people’s ability to come to the funeral. As a mama I just want to say that I understand the desire to come, but travelling in unsafe conditions isn’t worth it.

I just need you to hear me on this. It is OK if you can’t be here because it isn’t safe, or could become unsafe for you to get home. I UNDERSTAND. We have felt your love and prayers and support. We absolutely want your physical presence here but we also understand that this too is outside of our control.

I stood in the shower yesterday and cried and told God I felt like I had already surrendered so much, but I would surrender this too. This service, how many people could be there, if we would have too much food etc. I surrender all Lord. I just can’t control this either. And while I just want so badly for people to hear the message of HOPE that we have planned, I trust that even if no one can make it, God can still get the glory.

I believe that they will be taking a video of the service, it won’t be a livestream….but at some point I should have access to it and can share it for those that are unable to attend.

I have prayed and prayed that the storm would track another way, shift more West so we don’t get all the issues they are talking about here….but it just doesn’t look like that is going to happen. Use your best judgement and know we understand.

Finally, I know I have said it before but I would be remiss if I didn’t keep saying it…the support you all have shown us is incredible. You are being the hands and feet of Jesus in action. Bringing us food, words of encouragement, clothing for our kids, cleaning our house, cards and gifts of comfort and prayers….so many prayers offered up on our behalf.

You have been our Aaron and our Hur. Holding us up every moment. This is the body of Christ and I am so grateful to be a part of it. Thank you for loving us so well.

It is Christmas Eve. Usually we are headed out to the Christmas Eve service at our old church in Parker, SD. The church Isaac grew up in. The church Isaac was baptized in.

Tonight we are getting ready for a meal with Dominic’s parents and will open some gifts and it all seems wrong. Every new (should be routine) thing we do is HARD.

This morning we went to the funeral home and picked out a casket and an urn. We planned the details of his service and cried with the funeral home director David and his wife Elly Sprik. They have been phenomenal in walking us through this.

Our pastor James Allen was there too and is helping us coordinate all of the details of the funeral. He has managed so much from our church and we are so grateful that we don’t have to think about these things when we are hurting so much.

We have friends who are helping to organize the decorating and the worship and it all feels so humbling and holy….and wrong. So desperately wrong. I knew our church community was incredible but I never wanted it validated because of something like this.

Dominic had to make calls to people to ask if they would be pallbearers. There are so many people we would like to ask it was hard to settle on just 6.

We stopped at Isaac’s apartment to gather a few things that we could maybe display at the funeral home and it all seems so stupid. When we had his graduation I wanted all the ribbons and awards displayed. Now it just hurts and feels stupid.

And then after what was a long and hard hard day we got a letter from Isaac’s boss Joshua Nunn. He wrote the most incredible tribute for our boy. Oh my sweet son was so caring and kind and incredible and so many people saw that in him. I just wish he could have seen it in himself. But his letter was a gift that we will cherish and read again and again.

Our living kids want and deserve a Merry Christmas and my heart wants to explode with sadness that this is our new normal. I cling to the cross and the hope of the manger and the baby that came to save us all…..even Isaac.

I have been awake since 3:30. It is a strange reality, there are a few moments when you first wake that you don’t recognize where you are or remember what has happened…and then it all comes flooding back.

My boy is at the funeral home down the street. In a few hours we will head there to make plans for his service and pick out a coffin. I don’t know that we will see him yet but I believe we will get to at some point. I realize that it is just his “earth suit” as my old pastor used to call it…but I am desperate and terrified to see him.

It is going to be so real, so final. I know it is all true but this is just one more step in saying goodbye for now.

The physical pain in my chest is all consuming this morning. I almost can’t take a full breath. All I can pray is Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

And as I sat here for a moment breathing deeply I was reminded of Job. The very story I spoke of in my talk in November. Job didn’t lose just one son, he lost all of his sons and daughters in one fell swoop. And this was his response.

“And he fell to the ground and worshiped. And he said, Naked I came from my mother’s womb and naked I shall return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:20-21

Blessed be the name of the Lord. Do I really believe that? I do, deep in my soul I do. I can’t explain it but to say He is carrying us. I can feel it. Restore what is broken Lord and make something beautiful out of it for your glory. That is my prayer.

I guess this is what I am doing to process. I am going to be real here and share the good, bad and ugly. I have always processed through writing and so I am going to keep doing that now.

We are fighting to praise God through this and will continue to do so. We are determined that His glory will be seen. If this experience shines light to even one person, then our heartbreak has purpose. I am a person that needs to be able to someday see beauty from ashes.

But there are moments of deep regret that are creeping in. Guilt for ways we failed. Things we could have done differently. I know that these come as lies to hurt us, but in the dark hours of the night they are suffocating. Is this our fault?

We know the true answer to that question. I don’t need anyone to reply and tell us no, but it is a step in our grieving process and probably one of the most painful. This is the reality of suicide, what the loved ones left behind have to grapple with, and it is awful.

We loved Isaac so much and couldn’t save him. As parents, it felt like our one responsibility….

So where do we go from here? We crawl and inch forward. We breathe in God’s abundant grace and beg Him to carry us in this most unbearable time. We thank Him for each moment and memory we had and we look for ways to be an encouragement to others. Shine God’s light, and His truth because His light overcomes the darkness.

“You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lamp stand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” Matthew 5:14-16

It is just under 24 hours since we heard the news and our lives changed forever. It feels like a lifetime. I have been awake for every hour – please pray I might be able to sleep tonight.

Our kids are processing each in their own ways and I am trying to allow them space and freedom to do so. Karlena asked me if I had been sad all day and when I said yes she told me that she was happy for a short time when she was playing with her horse. I reminded her that we all feel differently and that she can have happy times too. Isaac would have wanted that.

They are very worried about what we will do with his Christmas presents.

I am incredibly grateful for every comment, message, text etc that I have received. I wont be able to respond to each of them but reading them has brought me such comfort. Thank you.

We had several visitors and meals/groceries brought today. Thank you. I have zero appetite and have forgotten that other people may want or need food. My family is so grateful that they have had food to eat and we are set for tomorrow as well.

Each person that has come has cried with me and let me fall into their arms and I have felt so loved. This pain is unbelievable, I keep trying to wake up from the nightmare. Having someone to grieve with me has been a balm to my soul.

I know I am forgetting something but I can’t even think straight anymore. Just know that the way you have loved on our family in 24 hours is overwhelming and we are so very grateful.