Thirty-Five

 

            Yesterday marked thirty-five years since we said hello and goodbye to my nephew Kirk – all in one day. I thought of it first thing when I awakened that morning. It was one of those days that I will not only never forget, but I will always remember bits of it in full color and sound.

            You probably have days like that too. Days that stay with you, even if you don’t want them to be as vivid as they are.

            That day will always be vivid, and it also vividly marked my life and faith. That was the day the Lord began to teach me about how He carries me when life is hard and seems unfair. That was the day I watched the adults I loved and respected (and who comprehended so much more than I could) wrestle with their faith and come forth as gold.

            I wonder sometimes who he would have been, had we gotten to watch him grow up earthside. I don’t let myself think on it too long, but I catch myself with those thoughts sometimes.

            This I know for sure: his life was not in vain. He always has been and still is part of our family. His picture sits in our home. Because of him, we are all forever changed, and I am grateful for the way my faith was strengthened in the fire and pain of this profound loss.

            I share about him often when I speak, and I shared his story again at the conference a few weeks ago. My story is what it is today because his story was written on its pages.

            Happy birthday, Kirk. Nothing here on this earth could compare with what you saw on your birthday yesterday. But you are missed and loved, just the same.

(Pictures clockwise from top left: 10-year-old me holding Kirk shortly after his birth / A granite heart my friend Amber made for me to leave at his grave on his 21st birthday (I believe) / One of my last visits to his grave / the bear that represented him at our wedding in 2012)