I didn't feel well yesterday, and last night before falling asleep, I felt like I'd spent the evening in the blender. It was ugly.
But I was so happy the instant I woke up this morning feeling so much better - and the sun is shining after a day of rain yesterday. Woohoo!
That feeling lasted for about one minute as I was lying there, until I felt a weight sink into my chest that is still there. The Chapmans are waking up this morning to the first thought that today is the day they will bury their 5-year-old daughter.
I spent the next while in such deep prayer for them, it felt almost desperate. I haven't felt that deeply about something I was talking to God about since I was praying for my own 8-year-old son's life at Riley Children's Hospital in 1999.
I prayed so intensely for each member of that family; for Steven Curtis and Mary Beth who must now not only somehow deal with the loss of Maria, but figure out how in the world to get their children through it, as well; for the children who witnessed the senseless accident; for the son who was to be celebrating his high school graduation this weekend; for the daughter whose engagement announcement will forever be connected to the timing of her sister's tragic death; and mostly for the son whose role in the tragedy will forever haunt him.
I don't think I prayed hard enough. Can you ever?
This is Maria.