Benjamin-brother-bear.

Home.

I still miss Colorado. I'm still antsy. Some things never change.

But,

In a couple short weeks, we will be celebrating the two year anniversary of Ben punching death in the face. Tonight we had a little family discussion about his recovery and some of his current concerns, something we try to do often but doesn't happen nearly enough.

I was so overwhelmed with...
joy.

I'm such a nerd, I know.

Really, though, I stood there in our little house packed with all seven us, beaming because I certainly don't deserve them at all.

I looked at the brother that doctors said may never walk again, may never be independent, probably never function as a normal human being, so on and so forth. Of all the circumstances in my life that proves God's ridiculous faithfulness, this one takes the cake. It defies human logic--falling four stories and surviving to tell about it. It still dumbfounds me at times.
The past week I've glanced back over these past two years, over the never-ending hospital scene, the therapies, the doctors, the shock, the grief, the screaming at God.
But looking back, I realized for the first time I don't feel the distant heaviness that set itself into my bones. Being here, this house, the memories, the constant reminder of God's radical love for us that manifests through Ben every day...
it has been bringing this toothy grin to my face.

To be able to laugh until I practically choke, with the brother who by human reasoning should be dead...I can't believe I get to live this life.

Thank you to all who've put up with me through this; whether you prayed for my family and Ben, let me bawl my eyes out, listened patiently while I rambled my confusion, looked past my fickle attitude and loved me anyway...this journey would've sucked without you.