It’s funny sitting here in the cool of the Stafford Mercantile’s air conditioning and remembering being here two years ago – to the day. It’s funny to think that only two years ago we were only just getting the place set up. Two years ago to the day we were wrestling pallets full of merchendise in through a teeny doorway. And…two years ago at 11-something AM a sudden phonecall arrested our work.
And suddenly Life as We Knew It vanished without so much as a “by your leave”.
Funny isn’t it, how things work like that?
I think I’ve talked some about my sister Noelle’s wreck, although not a lot. For quite some time after the wreck I considered September 20, 2012 as the very worst day in my entire life. And in some ways, it still is. September 20 marked the end of my previously fairly uneventful life and the beginning of a tumultous few weeks, sudden broken friendships, fear, and a too-close-for-comfort observation of the medical world. There are admittedly a lot of scars leftover from the chaos that surrounded the wreck.
But September 20 doesn’t just mark the end of something for me. It marks a beginning. It marks the time when I finally reached the end of myself and realized that I had no power to fix things. When I finally realized life was totally out of my control and had to choose to trust that God knew what He was doing. September 20 doesn’t just mark a horrible wreck and traumatic memories. It marks when my faith moved from just my head to my actions. And, in a sense, you could say that makes it one of the best days of my life.
And I guess that’s the way it works. “Best” and “worst” days don’t really depend on our circumstances, do they? They depend on how we choose to respond to them.