I'd known the guy since I was a freshman in high school...which would be 2001-2002. In all honesty, I thought he was pretty dang cute. It wasn't until June of 2006 that I formally met him--I went to a birthday shindig as someone's date, and we sat next to each other at the restaurant. He was funny, but didn't really know when to stop sometimes. At one point I stood abruptly to escape to the bathroom--I called Michelle because I didn't know what else to do. By the end of the night, all was well again and we all agreed that we'd meet up the following weekend to watch a movie and hang out.
But that never happened.
That following Friday I was helping my dad out at his office, and there was some massive traffic on the way home. I remember seeing that the police had blocked Gilbert off from Artesia to Malvern, and I remember being annoyed at having to take an alternate route home. I remember seeing a few kids running up the hill and past the tape, and I remember grumbling at their stupidity...
I remember that evening, the day that we'd decided to hang out, I turned my cell phone off and I sat in my room reading. I didn't want to hang out or talk with anyone that day. But at one point of the evening, my mom told me that Michelle was on the line--she'd called my home phone. I remember thinking to myself that it was slightly odd, that she must have had something really important to say...and she did. She called to tell me that Elmer died earlier that day in a motorcycle accident...on Gilbert, between Artesia and Malvern. I believe he was about 21 at the time...
The kids running up the hill turned out to be friends of mine--they, along with Elmer, had met up at their church near Gilbert and Commonwealth for some meeting or another. They brought the wrong key, and Elmer volunteered to make a quick trip to pick up the right key.
He never picked up the key...
The following month, 17-year-old Tim died in a car accident. That was the first funeral I attended for someone I knew directly...I didn't have it in me to attend Elmer's for some reason.
And this all a year after 14-year-old Eugene died because of a fist-fight gone wrong. Eugene, who had been one of the seven acoustic guitarists on the praise team...who stopped attending Sarang for I don't even know what reason.
I don't really know why I'm typing this out right now. I guess it's something that's been in the back of my mind. I'm feeling ridiculously emo, but I'm grateful for the reminder...the reminder that life really is fleeting, and that we really never know what will ever happen. A reminder to be grateful for all things in life, to live always with a grateful heart. A reminder that we should be wise in the decisions we make, yet not to let ourselves get consumed by these decisions. A reminder as to why it is that I won't ever ride, date anyone who rides, or let my kids ride a motorcycle. A reminder that the reason people come and go is because some way or another, either we help them or they help us to look to the cross...a reminder that we live for the sake of the glory of God. A reminder that death is only the gate to the rest of eternity, that the one-time death of a body itself isn't as scary as the eternal death of a soul. A reminder that suffering is only bearable when we know that there is some kind of end in sight--and this not suicide, but knowing that if we press on, we'll survive. I've heard it said that hell is hell, in part, because that kind of suffering is eternal...and you can't even die to escape it--you've already died, you are dying, and you will continue to do so...that's intense.
A reminder to share the gospel not only for the sake of saving souls, but also for the sake of God's glory.
A reminder that it's only by God's grace that I am where I am today--spiritually, physically, mentally, emotionally, literally, figuratively...
The three brothers mentioned above were professing Protestants, and for that I am grateful as well.
Hm. I don't really know how to end this entry...
Friends, let's not forget the eternal. Please? Let's not fall into what has become known as the silent exodus...as unfortunate as the sudden, unexpected deaths of these three brothers were, what would be more unfortunate would be the slow and subtle spiritual emaciation and deaths of those who seemed to walk so faithfully in their undergraduate years.
And please...
Don't let me stop fighting either.
