It's still a wonderful life

Two years ago, I was preparing to leave the world and enter the convent. My heart was full to bursting with hope and wonder and promise. It was breaking at the departure from my beloved family and friends. And it was marveling at the mysterious designs of God.

Now, I've left the convent and reentered the world. And my heart is heavy from my dad's sudden death.

I'm reeling from the shock of it all.

It's still a wonderful life.

Have I lain awake for hours at night? Yep. Am I moved to tears at the sight of dads waving as their kids go off to school? You bet. Have I prayed I love You, but how could You? I accept, but how dare You? I am in agony—what are You doing to me? You better believe it.

I've tried to make sense of it all and have come up short.

It's still a wonderful life.

I sat in the front row of my home parish during my dad's funeral, then stood on stage and told hundreds of people how much I loved him and how well he loved me. I've looked through old pictures and told my favorite stories and thought to myself, over and over, What do you mean, he died?

It's still a wonderful life.

I've been waking up early every morning, going to Mass and praying holy hours, opening my heart to the unimaginable consolation of God. I've been held up by the most loving and supportive family and friends I could imagine.

It's still a wonderful life.

As I ride this roller coaster of emotions, I'll keep on planning and hoping and dreaming. I'll keep loving.

Whatever crosses remain, whatever suffering lies in store, whatever new heartbreak awaits me, I will go on trusting and following God. For He is kind and merciful, and He is love.

And it will always be a wonderful life.