The second day on my race I got some of the worst news of my life. I remember being with some friends at base in GA after dark and just laughing. Laughing at everything we encountered. Ava taking pictures of everything, always wanting to capture the moments. I got a call from my mom and Ava took a photo of me on the phone, just then my mom asked to speak to Ava. Nothing out of the ordinary since this is so common for them to speak. Little did I know my mom was preparing for someone to hold me while I broke. The seven words that I’ll never forget then passed my mother’s lips “Your Aunt Amanda passed away last night.” I was broken. Hundreds of miles from home, nowhere near comfort that I’m used to. I sobbed for hours, it all felt so fake but so real. Anytime I thought about it I would break down. 

Two weeks later I went home for the funeral, back to my family and back to my comfort. I was prepared to be able to finally grieve and be with people who understood the pain I was experiencing. That moment never came though. I wasn’t able to process or to have a moment of realization. I was home for a funeral and there was no true and understanding emotion behind it. I knew why I was there, I knew what was happening but nothing processed. It was so hard because I went home to get that comfort, but by the time I was back in GA, I realized I never got to grieve. 

I was so hurt. I felt like I was doing something wrong. I felt like I should’ve grieved when I was home or even when I got the news. One thing that was hard for me to learn is grief has no timeline. I got through GA and LA with no moment of realization. Then one simple night in Guatemala we were having a bonfire and the realization hit me like a train. The tears flowed, my body shook and I was totally gone. I was so broken, just sobbing on the side of the soccer field with my friends trying to comfort me. It was one of the best and worst moments of my life. I was finally grieving and it was amazing, but also, I was finally grieving and it was a total nightmare.  I had no way to contact home and process with my family, I was just stuck processing aloud in the freezing cold. 

I hit my absolute lowest point that night. I sobbed for hours, in the grass, in the shower, in my bed. I couldn’t process a single thing around me, I wasn’t okay, I was just lost. I had the total strength of the Lord that night and all the days following. My grief was something I always struggled with because I felt like it held me back from growing. In reality, my grief helped me grow in ways I might never understand. I now know what it’s like to completely depend on the Lord in moments of grief and realization. My grief has helped me to do things in life differently, like how to be more vulnerable and how to look at the positives in times of complete sadness. The Lord provided me so much comfort in my grief because it doesn’t define me and hold me back, it helps build me up and helps me look at things in the Lords prospective.