Someone has a plan

It’s a good thing I was in Tokyo this week. I spent time with my brother and had a chance to serve his classmates. But I spent a lot of time alone taking care of myself. I slept in late. I spent time with my friends on Skype. I took long walks through parks and took a lot of time to sit and be with Jesus. I ate desserts and anything else I wanted, and Ryan obliged to a night of eating only desserts with me. I cried on the trains and in my bed and in the park, and it was okay. I know I’ll continue to grieve and mourn for a bit longer, but that this season won’t last forever.

I’m writing this sitting in Haneda airport, waiting to board my flight. I’m scared to go back to the village, back to being alone, back to isolation. But I know that God has me where I am for a reason. That the alone time will let me wrestle with the hard questions, the really hard questions.

It’s only 6 weeks before I’m back in LA. 6 weeks until I can see his parents and give them hugs. 6 weeks until Homeboy and I go visit him together. 6 weeks to let God minister to my heart.

There’s a peace that surpasses all understanding—and I get that. People keep telling me that. I think there’s a difference between peace and grief—and you can experience both at the same time. I cried myself to sleep last night because I missed my friend, but I fell asleep cradled in the arms of my Dad. In the midst of tears and heartache, He’s invited me to dance under the moonlight, to remind me to dance in the storm. There is peace in my heart though it is heavy with grief and sadness. There are questions I know won’t be answered until I get to heaven—Why him? Why now? Why like that?—but I know God is still who He says He is. When I get to heaven, those answers to those questions won’t even matter in the presence of His glory. I’ll fall flat on my face in worship, and nothing else will matter.

As much as those why questions plague my soul right now, I have to remind myself there’s a reason—His reason. He has a reason for all of this that I cannot comprehend because I can only see the 6 inches in front of me while He sees the whole picture. There’s comfort in knowing at least Someone knows what’s going on, that Someone has answers, Someone has a plan. That Someone is my Dad, and He loves me.

Sorry I couldn't come back home today. Although I would've cried uncontrollably, and you never liked it when I cried. It seems like everyone and their mom went, and they had nothing but good things to say about you. You were loved by many, and your life affected so many others. I hope with all my heart I'll see you again and we'll be on our faces before the throne of God worshiping Him together. I hope this isn't goodbye, just a see you later.