When I Am Quiet
It's because I really don't know what to say. Usually I have no problems banging out a blog and letting the world know exactly how I'm feeling. It's a gift and a curse.
Today, I'm quiet and reflective. I think about Jill and what she meant to me and I'm not even sure that I could convey what she taught me about life in mere words.
It was more than just a friendship--she was my lifeline.
When I wasn't sure what to do about the job at MACU--she was there.
When I wrestled with my darkest insecurities--she was there.
When I needed a good laugh--she was there.
When I needed a hug--she was ALWAYS there.
When I cried--she cried with me.
She liked being lovely. She loved a good compliment. And they were always deserved.
She was one sassy girl who loved to laugh.
Tuesday dinners with Maria, Rachel, and Jill.
Taking her to the movies with my girls--and having Lily ride in her lap on the way out.
Hugs every Sunday at church--and catch up time.
Pajama parties in the psych ward (this did NOT happen for the record).
She loved people. She had the unique ability to make everyone feel like they were the most important person in the room.
When I think about yesterday--I will never forget the last time I saw her.
She was listening to worship music while surrounded by her family.
Honestly, what else is there?
Jesus and our loved ones.
Everything else is just stuff.
Jill got it right.
She loved Jesus and she loved us.