My best friend.

I have a best friend.

She has held my hand for my first break-up.

She dried my tears when I watched my father pass away.

She let me follow my dreams, wherever they led.

She supported my goals.

She listened to my thoughts as they unfolded, even if it was 3am.

She let me follow God first.

She also taught me how to follow my heart.

She taught me how to relax and let life unfold.

She showed me how to love life.

She never judged me.

She always gave me a second chance.

She gave me confidence.

She taught me how to be a woman.

She said I made her proud.

She told me I was beautiful.

Today is 17 August 2012 (in America that is…). On 17 July I almost lost my best friend. I always thought she was invincible. I thought I was exempt from another loss since I had one already 6 years before. I thought that God would never take another hero away from me, at least not this young. And upon waking up on the other side of the world to a message I loathed before I even finished reading it, my assumptions were handed back to me and my control stolen once again.

The human body is a fascinating thing. Why is it that our base component, our strongest chromosome is in the shape of a cross? Why is it that we can abuse it with our lack of activity, proper nutrients, and overuse of toxic variables, and still reverse the effects of societies acceptable lifestyle? And why is it that people who avoid all of the above, never live to say the words, “I’m old,”?

I can offer no explanation. The only justification, if you can call it that, is God. Nothing makes sense in this life. And as I watch disease, death, and disaster destroy a world that was intended for none of these, I have to accept that we are only passing through.

I’ll never forget the words whispered to me from my father on 10 August 2006. “Make me proud,” he said as he knew his breaths were numbered. And I’ll never forget hugging my Mom in the airport today, as I realized we were so lucky to have a second chance. I wanted to hold her forever. I wanted to take away all the pain of the last month, all the scare, and protect her from any danger that could come her way.

I want to control her diet, her activity level, her amount of stress. I want to inhibit any form of heart disease from ever materializing in her body again. And here I am, on a plane, flying back to the other side of the world, doing the opposite of this.

I’m following a dream I’ve had for a long time. But I’m leaving behind my best friend. And as I passed through airport security and waved to my Mom on the otherside, I realized I wasn’t leaving behind my best friend, I was leaving behind my control over her every move. I was leaving behind my protective instincts. I leaving behind power, only to realize now that it is power I never really had.

It is my prayer that God protects her as I cannot. It is my prayer that he helps her to make healthy decisions and that people are placed in her life to help her recover to her greatest potential. It is my prayer that well I give up this control, that I don’t go looking for it again, that while I am away, I find a peace in trusting that God will hold her and guard her. Because the reality is, that whether I’m in the next room, or resting my head on the other side of the world, God will protect her all the same. And no matter where I am, His will shall be done.

6 years ago, at age 53, cancer took one. And today, my Mom stands at age 53, surviving something that statistics say she shouldn’t have. And I’m reminded that the precious breath of life is limited, and I truly look forward to a day when this pain isn’t present. A day when I can look at sin and say, “my God wins.”