It's hard to be in another state away from your family and friends when tragedy strikes back home. You feel as though your hands are tied behind your back with no way possible to help your loved ones when they need you the most.

I screamed at God this past week. I took a day to be alone, by myself, my music, and my car. We drove the Blue Ridge Parkway up and down, pulling off at the most pristine panoramic mountain views. I had a picnic by myself. I sang Taylor Swift a little too loud. And after fighting it, I finally silenced the music and cried out. Countless things have been swirling around my head lately. I'm overwhelmed with it all. So I cried out to my Creator. I was honest about how angry I am, about my fears, my hopes, and with windblown hair and tear-stained eyes, I felt closer to Him than I have in a very long time. Through the silence He whispers, "I'm holding you. Cling to me."

A week has past and honestly no problem or trial in my life has improved; if anything I've gained a couple more or the ones I had have gotten progressively worse. Still He whispers, "I'm holding you. Cling to me."  Knowing Christ doesn't make my problems nonexistent, but He holds me through it all, and that makes all the difference.