It's not fair!

I had a small breakdown earlier today. I was reading a few other blog posts that were about loss and I had a big, loud, good cry. Every now and then I just need one. The boys were at school and Ella was sleeping, so for a few minutes I just let it go. It felt ridiculous and wonderful at the same time. To let myself have a few moments like that turned out to be nice. It is interesting how many people have commented on my supposed strength since my dad died and during his illness. While I know I have been made stronger through it all and that God gives us strength in hard times, a good bit of the time I feel like a wounded and scared little girl who wants nothing more than to be held by her Dad again. I just crave the sight of him and the feel of those big arms around me. I long to hear his voice. It is still on my mom's voice mail. We just can't erase it. People also think my mom is doing "great." Sure, she's also been made strong and has received new mercies, but no one sees her when she cries by herself because she wakes up to an empty bed. It's not fair that she will celebrate her 40th wedding anniversary in two days without her husband. It's not fair that I can't have my annual Christmas shopping and movie day with my dad. It's not fair that only Kell and Eli will have memories of my dad - three year old ones at that. It's not fair that 4 of Dad's grandchildren will only know what they are told of their Poppa. It's not fair that I just recently deleted my dad's email address from my list of contacts; I just couldn't do it for the longest time. It's also not fair that I was on the phone with an 18 year old college freshman today who suddenly lost her Mom a couple of months ago. It's not fair that a little 4 year old girl died 2 weeks ago due to a non-cancerous brain tumor. It's not fair that my friend Gina is going through such a mess with her dad. It's not fair that my friend Melissa is struggling so hard for and wanting so badly to be pregnant. It's not fair that I know of an 11 year old girl who will not have her dad this Christmas - he died a few months ago. Sometimes I just want to throw my hands in the air and scream. But I have to hold on to the promises of God. I MUST trust that what he says he will do, he will do. I've learned that many of his promises to us will be granted to us when we are with him. We are not promised a fair life, a good life, an easy life. We are not promised tomorrow for ourselves or for anyone that we love. We are promised that he will never leave us. We are promised that he will not stop his good work in us until it is completed, which I imagine is when we are with him. We are promised rest for the weary and blessings on those who mourn. We are promised that he- God himself- will wipe every tear from our eyes. That the scorching sun will never been down upon our backs. That we will walk and not grow weary, run and not grow faint. So, although it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair(!), there will come a day when all of this will pass away. We will be reunited with those we love and crave to see and hold. We will be comforted by the Father of Lights. I just can't wait.