Shannon

In a former life, I was a therapist to one of my forever heroes. If you've ever worked one-on-one intentionally with a child, you understand that cell phones don't really mix in with therapy time. As in, you don't ever have a good moment to take a call or check a voicemail.

One night as I was cleaning up and writing notes after a late session, I picked my phone up off the counter to check for any important messages, and saw a text from my husband that accompanied several missed calls: "Call me now." Not good.

When I called, I had one of those "Top Five Conversations You Never Want to Have" moments, as I learned that he had been in a very serious car wreck and was on the way to the hospital - feeling physically okay considering the circumstances, but emotionally wrecked. As I talked with him, I rushed to put the last few things in place and left, trying to time my trip by the house to let the very-new puppy out just right so that I could meet him at the ER.

When I got to the ER, I learned several things. 1) My man WAS going to be okay (I needed to hold him to be able to know it). 2) Shannon - the girl who was driving the car and who pulled out in front of him, did not make it. Though the others (her friend and her two siblings) were all going to be physically okay, they had lost their sister and mom that day. She was quite young, and nobody was ready to let go of her. For the next few weeks, we struggled with a lot of emotions that we had never faced before. Sometimes L would break down and cry during the middle of doing things that he knew Shannon would never be able to do again or never be able to experience. Satan tried to attack his mind a lot, and I watched vigilantly for signs of depression. Sometimes I felt closer to him than I'd ever felt before, and sometimes there were miles of nothingness between us. It was a defining moment for us, to be sure.

Because the accident happened on a road that we travel fairly frequently, we always notice the little white cross that stands in memory of her at that intersection. When we pass it, I pray and wonder where her family and that friend are right then. I wonder if they are doing okay. I wonder how they remember that day. I wonder about the path that God has them on and why that moment was necessary and purposeful for Him to be able to carry out His Will in their lives and in our lives.

And so, on this day this year and for every year, we remember Shannon. We pray for her loved ones and for their continued comfort and God's continued faithfulness and nearness to them. We trust His Sovereignty. We acknowledge His power over life and death. We believe that He means all things for our good and His glory. We are thankful for His protection over our earthly lives and hopeful for a glorious revelation of His perfect mind one day - a moment where the veil is lifted and we finally "get it." And we wait with anticipation for the day when we embrace Shannon and celebrate Jesus together.

There will be a day with no more tears,

No more pain, and no more fears

There will be a day when the burdens of this place

Will be no more, we'll see Jesus face to face

-Jeremy Camp