My week.

Monday morning I woke up like usual and was going about my day. Someone had sent me a message on facebook that I decided to check. When I got on, I noticed that one of our church kids (who is away at college) had RIP Keith on his wall. It didn't take me long to find a page dedicated to his memory. I asked Scott, who graduated from St. C., what happened; it was then I found out Keith had committed suicide.

I was concerned because he was just a year out of high school, and I wasn't sure what my role should be. After making a few phone calls, I found out he was the cousin of one of my comes-to-youth-stuff-but-not-our-church girls. So I texted all the girls and we met at the church on Monday evening.

It's the second time in my life I've held someone who was grieving the loss of a loved one. There's nothing you can say in those moments, and certainly nothing you can do to make it hurt any less. Then came the questions and flood of emotions that I just listened to and understood, but didn't have an answer for.

Yesterday, I stood at the funeral home with her next to the dead body of her 19 year old cousin. I watched young person, after young person file through and cry and ask the same questions she was asking.

But the hardest part of it all was on Monday evening, that sweet girl looked at me with tears in her pleading eyes and a voice that was whisper said, "And the worst part of it all, I don't even know if he was a Christian." And the hope I could offer her wasn't very comforting.

I could have told her that God was sovereign and righteous and just. I could have told her that he was a God of comfort and mercy and grace. I could have said a lot of things, but all I said was, "All we can do is hope."

Please pray for me.