Change

This morning I found out that a dear childhood friend of mine suddenly passed away and it hurt, really hurt. All of the biology knowledge I have stored up in my brain is telling me that death is just a part of life and that life is not be possible with out it; but in my heart I know that death is the absence of life - there is no death without life first. Childishly, I wish I could assist death in choosing who it took, and argue that J., who was so full of life and passion, should have been on the bottom of the list. To say that death quite simply cannot rob the world of the treasure we all found in her. I want to stomp my feet and throw myself in the middle of the floor yelling and screaming that things shouldn't change.

I don't like change.

While it is exciting to watch my friends grow up and strive for amazing careers as doctors, teachers, counselors, firefighters, nurses, missionaries, pilots and soldiers, I constantly think about the days when we were little and played basketball in the park, had late summer night bonfires and randomly danced and sung together. Sometimes I just don't want to grow up, but return to the happy days of my childhood, back to the days when I didn't worry so much about my future and following the standard of others, but lived with a pure and simple joy. Spending my childhood with J. I never would have guessed that the power to continue spreading joy throughout the world would be given to me instead of her. I always thought that J. was going to live an extraordinary life, and  I would excitedly say 'I know that girl!'. J. did live and extraordinary life, and blessed and touched so many people, but here am I, dealing with change and only getting to say that 'I knew that girl'.

Well, I guess I can say more than that. I can say that I knew that girl and was extremely blessed by her kindness and caring. I can say that I knew that girl and was motivated by her passion and love for Jesus and supported by her friendship. And because I knew that girl, I am forever...changed.