It’s wild how much can change in ten years. And yet, when someone you love passes away, time has a strange way of standing still. I’ve known grief before, but when you left, McKenna, it was a pain I never thought possible.
September 26, 2015 is engraved on my heart. It feels like yesterday. You were only nineteen — just at the beginning of your story — and suddenly it was over. The anger I carried in those early days was unlike anything I’d ever felt.
McKenna was radiant. Her blonde hair, her contagious smile, her way of talking about Jesus in a way that made you want to know Him more. Even though she was younger than me, she’s the one who planted a mustard seed in my heart for Jesus. She checked in on me through college with texts and prayers, always reminding me, “You’ve got this. Remember God is greater.” I still cherish those words.
Ten years have gone by. Life has moved forward — jobs, relationships, milestones — and yet grief has stayed. I’ve just learned how to carry it differently. For a long time, I wrestled with guilt: why do I get to keep living, experiencing things she’ll never get to? But I know that isn’t what McKenna would want for me. She’d probably laugh and tell me, “Buck up, sister. Jesus has a greater plan. Trust Him.”
Even now, I have moments where the ache feels fresh. But there’s peace too. Peace in knowing McKenna is with Jesus face to face, and one day, I’ll see her again.
Last year I picked up Anne Wilson’s book My Jesus, and the words felt like they were written just for me. Isn’t it amazing how God places the right words, at the right time, through the right people?
Ten years later, I still carry McKenna’s influence. Her faith lives on in me. And maybe that’s the gift in grief — that even in loss, love keeps pointing us back to Jesus.
XO,
Alexis
Seasons with Hutson 