I’m sorry if you come here for witty banter but…
Monday was a sad day.
News that a friend and co-worker died over the weekend greeted me in the office lobby. First, it was in overheard whispers, then full-blown confirmation.
Shock. Grief. Disbelief. Stick a check in the box next to “all the above.” I found myself re-realizing over and over that he’s gone. Gone. It’s so absolute. But you remember again, after you’ve tried to go about your day for lack of knowing what else to do, and you’re shocked all over again.
He was 27. Father of two children. Husband to a sweet and beautiful wife. He was, most of all, a follower of Christ. It is comforting to know that he still is and he’s heard “well done, good and faithful servant” in a clear voice he’s longed to hear.
I’m pretty sure he was a friend to everyone that walked in the door… and he was a friend to me.
Over the last few years as I cycled from wheelchair to crutches to limping and back again, he held the door, pushed me out to meet my ride, carried my bags, always with an infectious smile and an even more catch laugh. He teased our friend who gave me rides for always making me wait. He teased like only a caring brother can.
He was that—a brother to all in Christ.
He wouldn’t let me pass him without saying hi and he’d sing “Mariah, she’s on fire” or “Me and Mariah, go back like babies and pacifiers.” I usually hate a Mariah Carey reference but, from him, I’d just laugh and shake my head. I think that was all he wanted… to spread a little joy.
I never saw him have a bad day. I’m sure he had them but he never let it show.
The world is a little dimmer now without him… but I’m comforted to know that his influence lit the fire of Christ in many.