Tired of Being STRONG

In November, a boy from our church was riding in the car with his dad when they were hit by a drunk driver. Nolan was in critical condition. Blue signs and bracelets were made – #NOLANSTRONG. We prayed; we held a walk; we rallied. In the end, his little body was too traumatized, and he passed away. 

It was particularly hard on V. They weren't close, V was a year older, but ran in the same group. They had gone with a couple of other boys to a KU football game a few weeks before the accident. For a 10 YO to process this, on top of having broken his wrist over the summer, his ankle during the fall, and just see the frailty of life in general was a lot. I started taking him to the counselor I saw last year, and that has helped. 

Then this past Sunday, the Chiefs beat the 49ers in Super Bowl LVIII in Vegas in OT. With the weather being unseasonably warm in the 60s and all the new football fans (thanks to the Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce romance), S and I decided not to go to the parade. V was disappointed, but we went last year, so once I set him up with an opportunity to hang out at a friend's house, he was ok. 

I'm so grateful we didn't go. 

It was a beautiful day, Kansas City at its finest. Probably around the same number of fans attended as in 2023. The rally wrapped up outside of Union Station, and as people started to head out, gunshots erupted. 22 people were shot: 1 was killed. 

Half were kids. 

And then the posts and images of Kansas City Strong started showing up. 

I know people mean well. I know they want to support our community. We will heal. But we shouldn't have to. I'm so tired of being STRONG. On a walk yesterday, I told God I don't know how much longer I can do this. I'm ready for him to come back. This world is not my home, and I'm done here. 

But it's not my time, it's His. 

So for now, I'll keep praying and trusting in Him and letting Him be strong for me.