It has been over twenty years since I sat with a small group of seventh and eighth graders and the other adult leaders of my first Mission Arizona trip and told them a story that had begun nearly twenty years before that and, unbeknown to me, was about to take a blessed turn. I shared with them how I’d lost one of my best friends, Doug Clark, in some freak accident with a drunk driver getting on the freeway the wrong way. Doug was the only one in his car to be killed and the only one in the car not to have a broken bone. I couldn’t understand why this had happened, what good purpose could there be in it? He was the first person that I had prayed with leading him to accept Christ as his Savior. I told the little group about how angry I was and how that I held on to the first question I thought I would ask when I got to heaven myself, “Why him Lord; why then? Why did you take him from me?” Over the years, through a disillusioned breakup of the little church Cindy and our family were in and through years of being outside the church altogether, my anger turned to a bitterness that drove a wedge between me and God.
I wasn’t aware of the tears until I’d been sitting there for a moment after finishing my story when the young intern and my friend, Darren Bottino, gathered the others around me and they laid hands on me to pray. I was healed then of all the bitterness, God seemed so close that I could touch Him, and in all truth, He was touching me with the laying on of their hands. It was a bona fide miracle and the first thing I’ll do when I get to heaven is to thank Him for this small group of believers, their faith, and the sacrifice He made for me. Is it any wonder that I gladly answered His call to go back to Arizona and spend as much time with youth groups and sports teams as I have? My son was a part of that group and I hope that he reads this and understands what a big part he played in setting my feet back on the path God had chosen for me. I hope that many of my young friends read this and understand what a great impact they can have on other’s lives.
I still don’t know the answers to those questions I was going to ask; they don’t seem so important now. I feel like that by giving up the bitterness and anger over it that I’ve somehow honored my friend in it as well as honoring God’s call. I wouldn’t necessarily know what to say to someone else who’s lost someone they love so much, a family member, a best friend, a spouse, a parent…all the old clichés seem so trite when I think of them here. I believe that what I’d do is to simply be there as much as I could, let them vent or just sit there quietly reviewing the life they had with the lost one and what life might be like without them. For certain, I would offer a quiet warning about holding it in and being comforted by the heat of anger and how those things could spread like a disease and affect all their relationships. I can only bring two ears and an open heart to the mourner and help them grieve.
How about you? What things could you do beyond the “He’s in a better place now” solace? What would you bring? What have you already experienced that has shown good effect?
Bless you all to be there when needed, present and in the moment, a representative of Jesus' great peace.
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