Hurt

The worst moments in life are the ones you don't expect. It just takes one horrible, early morning phone call to ensure that you will answer any early morning phone call that you ever receive. And every time you wake, blinking sleep into your tired eyes to stare at the resounding phone, you'll relive that first phone call, just a little bit. It gets easier the longer you're around, the more phone calls you receive. But that sinking feeling, the voice coming over the line that first time, the hurt in your stomach when you turn to face the wall, to curl your legs into your stomach and wash your face in salty tears, that feeling never goes away.

Early morning phone calls are the worst. The absolute worst. You never recover from them, and they hurt so badly. They're horrible. They become a metaphor for everything that comes afterward, everything you can never forget, and everything that will haunt you for the rest of your life.

I am making the decisions of the rest of my life, and the only sound I'll remember forever is the first shovel-full of dirt falling on the coffin of an eighteen year-old boy.

How can you trust a God after that?