May 28

Tomorrow is Saturday, May 28.
For most, it will be a normal Saturday, filled with sleeping in, baseball, t-ball and softball games.
Many will wake up, throw on some old clothes and get out and work in the yard.
A really good friend of mine, Leslie Leech, will be married tomorrow afternoon.
But for me and my family, it will be another first.
May 28 was the day my sister, Amy, planned to say her own wedding vows with my best friend Matt Lehmann.
Yet, God had other plans.
I still don't understand it. I probably never will.
You always think, "This will never happen to us. It only happens to other people."
Well now, we're everyone else's other people.
I'm not sure how I feel about tomorrow.
Our family will be gathering together at my aunt and uncles home with Matt's family.
I'm almost dreading it. I know it's better for everyone to be together tomorrow than moping at home, but for some reason, bringing everyone together means more moping and more sorrow.
My friend Chris said it best (out of the blue) yesterday.
"When you have a jig-saw puzzle and all the pieces are tossed about, you don't really realize any pieces are missing. But when you put the puzzle together and you have one piece missing - it makes a huge difference."
For me, I hope to have fun, laugh a lot and enjoy the day - but I almost wonder if that's even possible.
Will the strain and sorrow on everyone's heart over shadow everything?
I wish I could just bring my laptop along and blog everything that's said or done. But would anyone else really want to know?
I'm sure the people around me get tired of me talking about Amy. It tends to come up in half my conversations.
I miss her greatly, but I don't want to dwell on that. I just want to tell everyone how Godly and amazing she was in life and in death.
I want to tell everyone crying for her, "Shake it off. Amy would hate to know you're crying for her."
But that seems rude and crude. And if they ever catch me crying -- I'd punch them in the face for saying it to me.
C.S. Lewis wrote after his wife's death, "I've become an embarassement to all my friends. They don't know how to respond to me. I hate the people who bring it up. And I hate the people who don't."
People say, "You'll get over it. You'll move on."
I don't think you ever really will. There's still that missing piece of the puzzle.
It's like telling an amputee they'll get over the loss of a leg.
You don't get over it -- you adjust.
So, there are my plans for the weekend. I hope I didn't just throw out a huge downer on yours.
If so -- simply turn off your computer, walk away and pretend you never read this.
But know this: Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
And Jesus is the friend of a wounded heart.