I wonder if you’ve ever felt the same way. Whether you have or haven’t lost someone close to you, you've probably known someone who has. You’ve probably been faced with a moment like this. Perhaps not having to speak publicly to a group of grieving folks, but maybe you’ve walked across a room to console someone face-to-face and with each step searched for the words to say that could bring some kind of comfort, answers, and reasoning for their pain.

I know the two of them would have had much to talk about. Both loved basketball, Chip and Joanna Gaines, and photography. Both ran competitively in their teenage years, Amanda with the cross-country team in high school and Kristi the 4x400 relay in high school as well as cross-country in college. Both felt freest when they laced up their Asics and strode out on a country road for a couple miles. Kristi in particular was an incredible long-distance sprinter, posting a 59.2 second 400 split with a baton in her hand.

The enemy would love for you to believe you’re alone in your journey — that you’re the only one dealing with the pain you’re currently undergoing.

The truth is there are hundreds, maybe thousands of people who are walking through very similar trials as you. When your eyes are opened up to this, it makes your problems seem much smaller in the light of the larger picture of pain in this world.

Lately I’ve been having flashbacks. I’m not sure if they call this Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or not, but there have been multiple times over the past couple weeks where my mind almost involuntarily drifts to the morning I walked in and found Amanda.

It took me three months after Amanda was killed before I could go back into my house. I couldn’t bring myself to face the scene where I found her. I couldn’t muster up the courage to willingly walk back into those horrific memories. But I want you to know something that happened while I was in the house. I want you to see how, if you’ll let it, God’s Word can direct you in truth to comfort your unknowns.

From day one I recognized this was not just a physical attack, but a spiritual one. There was no other way I could understand how all this could have happened in the hour and a half I was gone from my house, other than this was a strategically mapped out, carefully plotted ploy by evil powers that live in the supernatural realm and have been given dominion of this world.

From day one, anytime someone would talk about those last 45 minutes, it was too much for me to handle. In fact, I think the Lord knew it was too much for me to handle. So I believe He gave me this one truth to hang my heart on until He could show me other truths.

Over the next 4 weeks, every Monday, I’m going to share my journey of healing with you. I’m going to share with you what I feel like the Lord has showed me. I don’t know for sure everything that happened in those last 45 minutes of Amanda’s life, either in the natural realm or the supernatural one, but the truths I’ll share with you the next 4 weeks are the ones that have helped me heal.

I purchased Amanda a sword from the movie Braveheart the Valentines Day during our engagement. I know, most guys do chocolates and flowers but I’m not most guys, and Amanda wasn’t most girls. She was special and each special occasion I felt the urge to do something special for her. Something that would top the last.

Sometimes you don’t have an explanation for it. It defies reason. It defies logic. It’s no respecter of time or appointments. It doesn’t take into consideration conversations you’re needing to have, situations you’re needing to save-face for. Grief. Agonizing, gut-wrenching grief.

Evie would have been born 4 days ago. It's 7:42am and I'm sure I would be finishing up my morning coffee, readying myself to wake Weston up while Amanda tends to Evie. I'd bring Weston his milk and take him into the bedroom to see his mommy and his new baby sister. Weston's been saying "baby" a lot recently. It comes out more like "bebe."

Despite the waves of emotion, I determined this year’s race was going to be special. We had 40 people in #ForIndy t-shirts running in honor of Amanda. Our Resonate Worship band was one of the featured bands along the route. 50 more of our Resonate volunteers signed up to pass out gatorade to runners. I was on track to post a personal record by running a faster time than I’d ever run a half-marathon. This year was going to be special!

Yesterday I took Weston to Amanda’s gravesite for the first time. I thought it fitting to begin a new Mother’s Day tradition with him. Needless to say it was very painful. Her headstone wasn't set yet, and he certainly didn’t understand what I was trying to tell him. But I wanted him to know more about his mommy. 

There is a country song by the band Heartland called “I Loved Her First.” I remember this song hitting the airwaves the summer before Amanda and I got married. I also remember it seemed just about every country song released that summer was about a father giving his daughter away in marriage. I could have sworn it was some kind of conspiracy against me! Every time I would hear one of these songs that summer I would almost impulsively drive up to Amanda’s dad’s house in tears and apologize for taking his daughter away from him!

The story of Horatio Spafford has always been an inspiration to me since I first heard it on a kids audio program called The Adventures in Odyssey - if you grew up in church you’ll probably remember these cassette tapes. Since Amanda’s death, however, Spafford's story has taken on another dimension.

"It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply.” -AW Tozer

This quote from well-known theologian, AW Tozer, has been sinking into my heart deeply as of late. We have so many people in our church who are experiencing REAL PAIN in their lives - loss, hardship, stress, anxiety, depression.

What people will often do when they encounter a trial, a tragedy, or a painful experience is they will try to run away from the pain. Pain is terrifying. It’s messy. It sneaks up on you and can cripple you in an instant. It knocks the breath out of you. But it can’t kill you.

Contentment is a slippery and alluring feeling. It seems to me I’ve spent much of my life looking forward to the next season and merely trying to endure the current one. When you plant a church the process can be so grueling and intense you have trouble appreciating the process.

One of the things I enjoyed doing the most with Amanda was running. We were those crazy people that ran for FUN. I still enjoy it as a way to clear my head. Shortly after we got married we trained for and ran a marathon in San Diego. During that season I fell more in love with my wife that I ever thought I could.

My counselor asked me this question during one of our conversations. He said, “Davey, do you think Amanda would have still said ‘yes’ to Jesus about moving to Indianapolis if she knew she was going to lose her life four years into it?” I really had to chew on this before I could answer him.