Last Friday, the world grew just a bit dimmer. The loss of one of our own lays heavy on our hearts.

As I scanned the trauma room of Hendrick that night, I saw emotions laid out like open books. Tales of heartbreak, confusion, anger and fear were written across the faces of the hundreds of students filling the small room. As the shock took over, two words replayed in my head like a broken record – Lindsey died.

There is a gaping hole in the heart of the ACU community, once filled by the beautiful and witty Lindsey Smith. It will be a long recovery before we can feel whole again.

Our university is overflowing with emotions, many of which still cannot be understood or explained, and that’s okay. Some are completely numb, and that’s just fine. Many have turned to worship as an outlet, and that’s awesome. Some are still confused and angry, and that’s me.

I am not the “praise You in the storm” type. I wish I was that strong, but I’m not. I’m angry. I’m angry at God. I’m angry at the other driver. I’m angry at people that are much more graceful in these situations than I am. I’m angry at myself for being angry. I’m just angry.

And I’m not alone. There are plenty of people like me – people who think phrases like “she’s in a better place” and “God needed her more than us” sound like nails on a chalkboard, and that’s okay too. We all deal differently.

The truth is, I walked out of that room Friday night an angry woman. But as I continue to reflect on all that has happened, my perspective is shifting. I no longer see only the tear-soaked faces of hurting friends and family. I see the warm embraces, words of encouragement and hope. I no longer see hundreds of people that gathered to mourn Lindsey’s death. I see hundreds of people giving witness to the life that she lived. Hundreds of people, all there because of the impact she made in her short time on this earth, and I am in awe of her for that. I am no longer consumed by the thought that Lindsey died. A new two-word phrase is ringing in my ears – Lindsey lived.