I guess we’re all one phone call from our knees

“She got the call today
One out of the gray
And when the smoke cleared
It took her breath away
She said she didn’t believe
It could happen to me
I guess we’re all one phone call from our knees”

Mat Kearney (Closer to Love)

April 6, 2012, 7:30 am: I got that phone call. It was my  little brother, Keith. He told me to sit down. I sat on the bed; my disheveled hair and pajamas reflecting in the mirror across the room. “Katie, dad was in an accident last night…” I wasn’t very shocked at the sound of that…my dad had some accidents over the years because he was a really adventurous man. “Is he ok?” I asked, almost out of obligation…as if it was the right thing to ask even though I had complete confidence that he was, in fact, “ok”. Keith’s voice became weaker as he replied: “Katie, dad died last night.”

I hung up with my brother and threw things into a duffle bag my dad got for me as a Christmas gift a few years ago—not even fully aware of what I was packing or what I was packing for. An hour later, I threw my bag in the back of our car and Ryland, Tyson, and I drove the length of Pennsylvania. 6 1/2 hours with a full box of tissues secured in my lap ready for each phone call from friends and family.

After a long day of driving, Ryland held me tight with his last strength as we fell asleep. I replayed the words on the phone and made up illustrations; pictures that described how the accident happened, when it happened, where my dad is now, memories that I didn’t want to forget, etc. Ryland took deep breaths & slipped deeper into dreams. His grip around my shoulder loosened with every breath and I realized I was about to be alone with my thoughts. Finally, his arm fell off of my side and I felt let go.

In that moment, I couldn’t help but think that this moment, right here in life, feels….

just.

like.

that.

Life has let me go and I am free falling. What happens next? I know that question sounds so cliche but it is my turn to ask it and I am going to ask it with faith. Life usually feels so bound up and sure. I have a schedule, a list, a sense of morality, Jesus–my strength and my song, expectations for what will probably happen in the next day, week, month, or year. There is only a small handful of memories I have of this free falling feeling…

and this one is the most undone.

I don’t even know if these words I am writing are making sense to anyone else but then again, this non-sense matches my heart.

I have realized that feeling let go is actually a really good thing for my heart, which is why you should go ahead and forgive Ryland for leaving me alone with my thoughts while he was dreaming of disarming a bomb in Mexico. (He usually dreams really macho things like that—figures.) When i feel like life has let me go, it reminds me to let go as well; to give up the need for control, the need to know whats next, the need to plan; and instead redirect my heart toward priorities. Don’t misunderstand me—I know full well that God’s grip on me is tighter than ever and that he has never and will never let me go. It is life’s demanding busyness that has let me go, releasing me back into my husband, my maker, my God’s arms. I am tucked securely under his wing and I will sing through my emptiness, letting his promises refill and rejuvenate me for another round of good ol’ raw & honest life.

One last thought: Sorting through my dad’s belongings this week was endearing; but my favorite things that he left behind are not things. My favorite things are words that described him, expressions of how much other people loved him. Which makes me ask myself: if all we can take from this life is love, how much more conviction do we need to love as deeply as we possibly can?

Now, Go hug your daddy (both your earthly dad and your heavenly dad) as best you can.

Love you daddy…I don’t even know yet how much I will miss you and I am scared to feel that—but I know that you are gazing on the glory of the Lord in all His radiance—what a most adventuresome and beautiful experience that must be. Wish I was with you but I know that you are so proud of me—of my marriage to Ryland, my photography business, my faith, etc. and I know you would tell me to not waste one minute wishing I was anywhere else but right here. Love you dad….Katie