I'm waking up with a "loss hangover" today. Last night, the Ducks played Stanford and we just got decimated. The final score would suggest a closer game - (we "came back" in the last five minutes...too late too late). Stanford had it together and we did not - and now, with this loss, we can kiss the National Championship game and probably Marcus Mariota's Hesiman win good-bye. It's sad. I'm grieving. And, I know it's silly as it's just sports, but it is of value to us and therefore something that hurts a bit. We'll get over it, but we surely won't be tuning in to all the broadcasters over the weekend commenting on just how bad we played. (Photo found by Kaela)
That's where I'm at - and, along with needing to pay bills (a particularly dreadful chore at this juncture of life) and feeling the effects of a headache I thought we'd conquered yesterday, but I fear my posture during the (dreadful) game last night re-ignited - I'm not at my best. But, it's all very temporary. And, that's a big deal, because lately, I've been overwhelmed with the losses others have been handed right and left - that are way beyond temporary.
- The beautiful twenty-something Sheldon graduate, a friend of one of Brayden's favorite teachers last year, a client of my mom's (along with her mom) - who was beaten to death (with a bat), by her very "normal-all-American looking" husband.
- The mom, my age, who has awaited results for over a week to see if the Melanoma surgery she just had kept the cancer from spreading (it did, thank God).
- The wife, who arrived at the scene where she expected to meet up with her husband and "dead car" found instead, her husband lying on the ground - having just been crushed between the car door and the telephone pole (the car began rolling too fast and pinned him). Thank God he was an NFL linebacker, any person frailer than he, would have probably been killed. As it stands, already vulnerable vertebrae were further injured, a shoulder fractured and pain intensified in a body that was previously wrought with pain from a career of taking "hits".
- A new college friend I meet with, who continues to have nightmares of the UO game she attended a couple of weeks ago where she was literally trampled by students racing to get the best General Admission seating. While physically minimally injured, she is struggling emotional, reliving the event over and over and now afraid of crowds and open spaces.
- Another new friend, who is in the trenches of discovery when it comes to an important person in their life - and just how troubled that individual is and how distant true reconciliation may ever be because of deep wounds never healed.
-A woman fighting dimentia, who we may never understand why, but chose to with hold her love from her only daughter even when she was of sound mind - and now is alone, bitter, and paranoid.
- The student, who, presumably to gain love and affection from a boy, made a bad social media choice and now it can never be undone.
- The boys, who perpetuated that mistake, by passing on this "media" and could be facing a label of legal ramifications on their record. Not to mention the guilt of being a part of such hateful bullying.
These are just stories from within a two week span. Heartbreaking stuff that infiltrates my thoughts and prayers as I try to fall asleep or take walks with Whitley. It makes me all the more thankful for this journey John and I have been on and how our tragedy can be remedied, is being remedied, and we are already seeing good come of it. It also makes things like a Duck loss, bills, and a headache feel so little.
All of this loss - I'm ultimately most grateful for a place beyond this world where the "tears will be no more" and in the meantime, a Savior who has been through it all, and so longs to shoulder these burdens.