I am a proud graduate of North Fremont High School. Purple and Gold forever:). There were (I believe) only 44 members in my class, thus making us quite unique. More or less an extended family. Most of us went to school with each other for 13 years straight....the few that moved in and out were remakable, and remembered, because not much happens in Ashton, ID:)
Next month will mark 18 years that we have been graduated. In our Senior year, on a snowy January day we lost one of our own in a car accident. Stephanie Palmer! Oh we cried! She was always a light and we loved her. This winter I went home and attended a basketball practice where, sitting nearby I saw Stephanie's sister in-law, who she had never met. As she was exiting the gym I quickly got up and introduced myself. And briefly told her, " I was Stephanie's friend, she was a remarkable person, you are going to love getting to know her in the next life."
In all of our crying sessions, I am not sure who we were crying for. It must have been us, because the thought that we were crying for her seems unreal through the scope of time.
18 years has taken our little class and spread us throughout the country, with varying jobs and families and situations.....but every situation that I know of has been dealt a share of heart-ache.....somedays leaving us wondering, "did I really sign up for this?"
Today and as night closes in, heartache abounds for one of our own, and my heart is breaking for them as well. MaiKeli lost an 8 year old son. 3 years ago, at my own dad's viewing, I remember Keli walking through the line, giving me a great big hug, and wanting to talk, but couldn't as tears streamed down his cheeks........I have thought of that often over the last few years. Simply his ability to mourn with those that mourn made all the difference to me.
I cannot count the number of times that I have heard the following, "why would God let that happen?" And as life's experiences continually take me to my knees and to the scriptures looking for answers, I still don't know the answer to that question. But I am becoming COMPLETELY SURE that the solution always lies with Him and Him alone. There is only one place to turn, when happiness never again seems to be a possibility.
Where, when my aching grows,
Where, when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.
