May 7, 2008
The death of a friend.
I am the way, the truth, and the life. He who believes in me shall live…
Today I am on my way to the funeral of one of my closest friends. Other than Andrea, I have three people who are my closest, most trusted friends and confidants. These are men who have stood the test of time with me, who have been with me through thick and thin, and people that I would be willing to die for.
Now I am down to two. I am shocked and amazed. My friend Don was 57 years old. He was Kristen’s godfather, and he shared a birthday with Kira.
He worked tirelessly for his congregation, and he worked closely with me on church councils, building committees, and major projects. I could tell you a million things about him, what a good man he is, what he has done, how he made my life (and the lives of many others) better. But most of all, what I want you to know is that Don was a really, really good friend to me.
And I feel like my insides have been torn out. It’s not right, it’s not fair. The timing is off. He was too young. He had so much more to offer, so much more to give. I am still shocked by the news. My mind is like a PowerPoint slide show, scenes of the fun times and the hard times and the adventures we shared. There’s a lump in my throat and I can’t keep my eyes from welling up. And I hurt. I just plain hurt.
As I write this, I am on a plane bound for the Don’s funeral. Two rows behind me, a woman is softly singing, and I think, What in the world is she doing singing? Doesn’t she know what has happened? Of course not. My world has stopped for these days. My heart is broken.
Now, I know that Don is with God. I know I will see him again. I thank God for giving me Don to know and to love over these years, and for the way that Don touched my life. I thank God for giving me such a great friend, and I am so thankful that Don really knew Jesus – that Don really knows Jesus. I am thankful that we will get to spend eternity with God and each other.
At the same time, though, my heart is broken. My spirit grieves. I can’t eat or sleep right and things are just messed up.
I am telling you all this not so you will feel sorry for me, and not just to remind you of the resurrection (although that is a very good thing to be reminded of).
I am telling you this because this week over 22.000 people died in Myanmar (Burma) in a terrible storm, and thousands upon thousands are missing. And those aren’t numbers, they are human lives. And each one of those people was to somebody just like my friend Don was to me. For those left behind, their hearts are broken. They’ve lost friends, moms and dads, sisters and brothers, even their own children. I can’t even imagine the heartbreak, let alone the challenge to survive, emotionally and physically. It’s as if a nuclear weapon went off in Atlanta, and we barely survived, but a great many of our family and friends didn’t make it…. And we don’t have electricity, or clean water to drink, and we aren’t sure if we even have any food.
I honestly can’t imagine the magnitude of the destruction—of homes and property—but more importantly of families and friends.
So today, I ask you to do two things: first, just stop and pray for these people, for their broken hearts and their physical safety and for the rebuilding of lives. Second, write out a check to Christ the King and mark it disaster relief. This isolated country is now beginning to allow aid to come in. We as Lutherans are known worldwide for our ability to help in disasters. Let’s make a difference. Let’s do what we can to ease their suffering and to make sure that the people who are wondering where their next meal is coming from will get that meal, courtesy of some Christ followers halfway around the world. Let’s do both; pray, and put our money where our mouth is – or in this case, where their mouths are.
Together, we make a difference. We may not be able to change the past, but we can choose how we will live today. And today, we can choose to affect even one life, in the name of Jesus Christ.
Thanks.
Tightly in His grip,
Dave
