aye aye aye.

I have been battling "the crud" since Sunday and I wish to goodness someone had a hammer to smash against my sinuses!

This morning was another one of those that I wished I could treat work like college and just not go because I felt sick. But, with Brian being a full time grad student, I have to work so the bills get paid. Yuck.

So this is a short post to once again say, never ever ever ever rush college. It's the only time in your life when you get 5 weeks off for holidays and what seems to be endless skips when you just don't feel like getting out of bed.

O death....O grave

Saturday morning I woke up earlier than my husband, as always. I moseyed on to the living room and sat down with my coffee cup - full of peanut butter Cap'n Crunch like any mature young woman would so desire on her weekend morning. I began channel surfing, trying to find something to watch to pass the time.

My phone rang. It was Steve, our good friend from "back home" in Jackson.

Steve never calls me. The thought frightened me. It was only 9 am.

I answered.

"Laura Leigh. It's Steve. First of all, I miss you guys. But...you know there's a reason I'm calling."

I braced myself.

"Shanta died."

My heart sank. I felt like I had swallowed a lump of lead.

I listened to him recount the story: Shanta, sick with the flu, visited her doctor on Friday. He told her she had developed pneumonia and wanted to put her in the hospital to be safe. She entered, doing well (considering her sickness). She died the following morning around 3.

Shanta --- wow. Shanta was a beautiful person. She was the sheer essence of humility. She loved with a heart so large that sometimes you would almost expect it to burst from out of her. She was more of a mother to her two younger sisters who happen to be some of the dearest friends I've ever had the opportunity to make. She was a servant. She longed to glorify Christ with each step she made. She was young.

I had only gotten to know her within this past year through a production company/ministry we both were volunteering our time to. It felt like I had known her for years. She gave the best hugs. She always asked about my life. I never once heard her complain about a thing.

I sat motionless for a while. All I could think of were Christian and Charise, her two sisters - my friends - who must have been heartbroken. Shortly, the tears fell. But they didn't remain long.

As I sat and thought on it longer, my eyes began to be opened to something new. For the first time in my life, I began to understand what the Bible means when it says "O death, where is thy sting?" Sure, I was sad for the loss of a friend. I knew her family was hurting beyond comprehension. But I began to think about Shanta. Wow. She had to have been completely ecstatic to make it to the gates. She was finally at the feet of the One she spent her life serving! It was an unexpected trip -- the best kind! Even now, she still hasn't even had time to fathom the goodness of the God she is now spending an eternity with.

Death, as tragic as it may be, is not the end for those who believe. I understand that now. Shanta is still teaching me even though she is no longer physically present. Rather, God is teaching me.

Thank God that we have a hope. We have a future.

And in the words of one of the greatest women I've ever known - even if only for a short time - it certainly is a "Beautiful day!!"

...doubt...

You know, just a few minutes ago I was looking at the facebook profile of Elizabeth Edwards - the wife of John Edwards who sadly passed away yesterday after a six year battle with breast cancer.

I wondered why so many people were writing on her wall - some even addressing her as if she would be reading their words soon. It seemed ridiculous. I know that sounds harsh, but just follow me. All of a sudden, it hit me: "it's a coping mechanism."

No sooner did I process that thought than I found myself asking the following question:

Isn't that what Christianity is? A coping mechanism to attempt to wade through life?

I was utterly shocked. I didn't ever think something like that would come from me.

But doubt crept in regardless. I sat motionless for a moment. I was wondering what this thought would bring. Was there a revelation to come? Would I suddenly believe that everything I've ever thought to be living and true was simply a device I used to numb painful situations?

Then suddenly, a thought: People have given their lives for Christ. People have trusted him for thousands of years. That seems to be more than coping.

Then after that, momentary visions of moments in my life that have been the most trying. I saw hurt and pain and stress and despair -- followed by comfort and peace and provision and hope.

I may not be able to physically prove the existence of God. But I can look back on my life to this very day and see the intangible evidences of His presence. That's not a coping mechanism. That's a Savior who lives and loves me.

Doubts creep in. Christ reminds me of...well, Himself.

It's not a crutch. He's not a character.

He is alive. And He lives in me.