Grieving With Hope

This past week has brought a sense of heaviness in my heart. My oldest child graduated from high school. She has achieved all that I could have possibly dreamed she would up to this point in life. To say I'm proud is an understatement. Completion of high school also means that life in our family is shifting. It won't quite be the same because she will experience a new season of life that will bring fresh experiences and countless life lessons. As I've talked to Cyd the last few days we both agree we feel a sense of sadness while simultaneously finding our hearts filled with hope for what is to come for our graduate. 

Truthfully, the heaviness I feel is linked to other factors. For starters, this week marks 11 years since my Dad died from pancreatic cancer. I'm not a big death anniversary kind of person, but reaching a milestone with a child makes you miss a parent even more. The interesting thing about grief is that for most people, not a day goes by that you don't miss the loved one who is no longer present. You want to call them to ask a question or hear their laugh or listen to a piece of advice. I miss my Dad every day. I wonder what he would think of his grandkids, of our country, of the church, and of the state of bass fishing wherever he finds himself. 

The death of Tim Keller a week ago from pancreatic cancer has brought back the flood of emotions of walking that journey with my Dad 11 years ago. I never met Keller, but his sermons and writings have influenced me greatly. More than anything he wrote or preached was the way he lived out his faith. It wasn't contrived or somehow different when he was around different people. His faith sprang from a heart genuinely enamored with Jesus. It was only later in my life that my Dad's faith became real for him, but he lived his faith enamored with Jesus as well. I know that Tim Keller would have been a favorite of Dad's the last 11 years had he still been on this earth. I imagine that if they get to talk to one another in heaven the conversation would be lively and spiritually rich. 

I wish I could say that the heaviness stops with these three events, unfortunately, Cyd and I found out earlier this week that a dear friend of ours from college, David, passed away in a car accident on Sunday. David was involved in the same ministry we were involved with during college. David was an honorary groomsman at our wedding. About 7 years ago as I started a degree program at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, I reconnected with David, who was living in New Orleans.. He graciously served as my host for 3 out of my 4 visits to campus through the next several years, even if he was out of town with work. One visit fell on my birthday so David and his housemates at the time ordered Thai food and sang happy birthday to me after class. When Cyd and the kids joined me in New Orleans for graduation 2 years ago, David joined us for brunch and served as our tour guide. Last summer, he even came to visit us in Stilson and attended Old Fellowship Baptist Church with us. David had a way of making people feel valued, heard, and loved all because of his identity as a redeemed child of God. I will miss my friend, but I anticipate the day I will see him again. 

The Christian faith is not devoid of grief, but the hope of the resurrection beckons us to lean into Jesus more and more even when things are sad and heavy. The gospel gives us hope!