hope for the hopeless

My body lost every sense of feeling.

My heart started beating faster.

It sunk deeper and deeper.

In just a few short moments I thought my world was going to crash down.

After hearing the voicemail from my mom my instincts kicked in and I knew something was wrong. It was more than the instincts though; it was the quivering voice of my mom. The sobbing heard over a brief 10 second long message. Something had happened. I called back shaking.

Lance was in the hospital. The emergency room. He had been drinking, and evidently had way too much. That’s all I knew. I assumed the worst. I started having flashbacks. What had been the last thing I said to him? Did he know that I loved him? My friends quickly were by my side and I’m pretty sure I would have broken down right then and there if it wasn’t for them. I was scared. More scared than I have ever been, and as my breathing got heavier and heavier with every breath I knew I had to get out of there. We were in the middle of formal, at the Statehouse Convention Center in Little Rock and I felt stifled. I wanted to run. Run home and hold my brother and make everything right. More than anything, I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I did the next best thing—we prayed. Michelle prayed as my friends hung close to me. The words were like a song to me, speaking every emotion that I felt. As we walked out towards the car, I didn’t feel relieved. I didn’t stop worrying helplessly about Lance. However, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. I was supposed to take Rachel home just outside Little Rock to Sherwood, and then take us back to Hendrix. As the hair on my arms rose from the frosty air of night and the emotion swirling inside of me, I felt okay. I felt that getting us back safely to school could be done. And I was going to do it.

It was the longest drive I have ever been on. Sure, it takes well over 13 hours to drive from Aurora to Conway, but this drive seemed longer. I was urgent to get back and call my parents. I wanted to know exactly what was happening with Lance, but I knew if I answered the phone on the way back, it could be bad news, and I might have a breakdown. I just kept driving. We didn’t say much in the car. Some songs came on the radio and I sang them. I sang them with everything I had because I thought if I sung the words hard enough I might wake up from this nightmare. Maybe it would all go away. My brother was in trouble and I couldn’t help him. It was eating at me.

Everything turned out okay. Relatively okay, anyway. Lance had too much to drink and got in trouble, and had to be taken away to the hospital. He will have to deal with the consequences, but all things considered everything is alright. I had to tell myself that over and over again today. I told myself that at Greenbriar this morning. Everything is going to be okay. Everything happens for a reason. God will bring us through this. I have never been so scared, but I also have never felt so grateful. God was with my brother. I believe that. He is always with us.

I got goosebumps a lot at Greenbriar this morning. My mind was on Jesus, and coming to His presence, but it was also on Lance. His face, his voice, it couldn’t escape me. As the goosebumps engulfed my body I can’t help but think Jesus was reminding that His love will sustain me. That despite how helpless I felt, I could still have hope. Because at the end of the day, Lance made it out unharmed. Mentally, emotionally, and spiritually he will struggle for awhile. But he is here. By the grace of God he is here. Amen, Hallelujah.

This isn’t the first problem my family has encountered. Ha, oh no. My family has been through a lot, and probably more than anyone on the outside could understand. My family is so far from perfect. So far. Not that I have ever wanted the perfect family. What would I learn from that? I love my family for exactly who we are. Exactly for the love we share, and exactly for the feeling I get when I am around them. We have never been normal though. The closest thing to normalcy may have been the summer days when I rode my bike around the neighborhood with Lance, and we squealed with delight when we got our chili cheese dogs from the barn store, along with a large slushie to finish off the meal. I remember those days like they are fresh in mind, like they just happened. That was about as normal as it ever got. It’s not that I didn’t have a wonderful childhood—I did—but we went through a lot as a family. I know my mom and dad loved each other for a long time, but I also remember when it started to fade. My mom was unhappy, my dad was unhappy, and the tension continued to build and build. My mom turned to anger, my dad turned to alcohol. They never put any of these things before their love for us, but in their attempts to escape their unhappiness, our family started to fall apart little by little. My brother and I began to fight and though we were once best friends, that seemed like a distant memory. The summer before my freshman year in high school it happened. They told us they were getting divorced. To be honest, I am surprised it didn’t happen earlier. I was upset. Still, I knew it was the right thing. People have tried to tell me that divorce is wrong. In a sense it is. It is wrong to have a family endure everything a divorce entails, but until you have gone through it, you don’t know how it feels. My parents needed a divorce. For the sake of my brother and I, and for the sake of their happiness, they needed a divorce.

5 years later I can’t help but be appreciative at everything that has happened since then. My relationships with both of my parents have been drastically improved and strengthened. Lance and I have grown closer again, and both of my parents are in happy marriages. Healthy marriages. I also found God. I mean, I really found God. I am lucky for everything to have turned out so well. I know that with some of my friends, divorce has been much uglier, and has resulted in them dealing with the negativity for years and years afterwards. It is apart of me, and will be apart of me for the rest of my life, but it was a blessing in disguise. Trust me.

We’ve had our problems. But God has always got us through them. He has always helped us in a time of need, and I have no doubt the same will be true with Lance. Because even though my family has had problems and was broken at one time, we are still tied together by our boundless love. I can list off the problems my family and I had to deal with throughout my 20 years of existence, but doing so would ignore the beauty, mystery, and love that my family has also experienced. We have seen astounding places in the world, they have supported me at every field hockey game, we have watched Denver Broncos games together, yelling until our voices were sore, we have laughed during family game nights, and we have shared our dreams. And of course, we always had (and still do) our interesting political debates. Even now, as a self-proclaimed democrat, who admires Obama like woah, the debates are still good. Actually, they are better. There’s nothing like hard-core Republicans criticizing the newly converted liberal.

This to will pass. Lance is going to be okay, and even though he may be hurting now, I am hoping this will be a wake up call for him. I am realizing just how important my family is to me. Despite the imperfections, the problems, and the silly drama every now and then, I realize that no family is perfect. That’s completely beside the point anyway. My family is about love, and no matter how hard it gets, I can’t ever forget that.

The best part about family? It keeps getting bigger. Not because of my extraordinarily large step and extended family, but because of the people that are entering my life. My friends are apart of my family, and to me, that is a beautiful thing. It just keeps getting better.

You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them. --
Desmond Tutu