More than words

Nothing in my life could have prepared me for March 4th. I had never had any experience close to it, and no moment has been able to compare since. Being awakened with news that is beyond comprehension, crazier than the dreams that were just floating through your brain. My father's words reverberated through my ears, and my eyes were not yet able to take the weight of the broken world in: "There was an accident. Three of your classmates are dead."

Not just three of my classmates. Three of my friends. Three of the 52 students that made up my high school class. Three people that had been with me since elementary school. Lisa McDonald, Carrie Herbst, Dan Perger. The first girl who made fun of me, my first "girlfriend" (it was 6th grade, it's not actually dating at that age). It all didn't sink in until my father said that Dan had died. Of course he had saved this one for last. It killed him as much as to say it as he knew it would hurt me to hear it, the son of our pastor and the boy I had grown up playing with at church. The boy with whom I shared rides to and from basketball practice.

My life was rocked. It was like God was shaking the snow globe of Ethan Luhman; God was shaking the snow globe of South Wayne, and everyone was trying desperately to find their way back to a solid foundation. How are you to process such catastrophe? There is one way, and one way only- through tears. The same tears that come even after eight years.

This is not how it should be. This is not how it should be. We know death is bad and wrong, but sometimes it takes three people dying to be confronted with how terrible it is. I had to be a pallbearer at the age of 15, in my grandfather's suit, looking like hell. At Dan's funeral, I remember having the opportunity to say something, but I could not. I was sitting in the front row of the gymnasium, but the distance still seemed to be much too far. Words were not coming to me. I had the memories and the moments. But it was not in my power to stand up and tell everyone how great Dan the Man Perger was and how much I am going to miss him. As the bagpipes played Amazing Grace, I could do nothing but weep.

I missed the opportunity to let everyone who cared know how much I cared. But at the age of 15, I learned that words can only do so much. The snow globe settles again, and life is comfortable. I have words now. I have things I could tell you; I could tell you about Dan's Confederate flag, his southern heart, and his interest in history. But I have more than words now. I need more than words to communicate to you that Dan, Carrie, and Lisa had an impact on me. They still have an impact on me and on the way that I live.

I was challenged by my "loving" God. It seemed almost counter-intuitive. Trust in an all-powerful God when he doesn't stop three young people from dying? But I did trust. I couldn't make excuses for God, and he does not need me to. I saw Jesus, who came to this earth, to be among his own broken people, to give them more than words. He went to the poor and gave them his time. He went to the diseased and touched them. He healed the sick, raised the dead. Jesus cared about people who were suffering. He cared more about Dan, Carrie, and Lisa, and their families, than I ever could have. Not everyone liked Jesus, and how much he cared for the hurt and lost, so they killed him. God himself went through a gruesome death, and the people who loved him were torn apart, just as I was at the loss of my friends.
This is not how it should be.  I saw Jesus, who did something about death. He confronted it, and he defeated it. He defeated disease, evil, and pain, and he has promised to wipe away every tear from our eyes. My God can do anything, and where I see brokenness, I know God has a plan to bring healing and restoration. He has a plan to bring more than words.

So, eight years later, I finally stand up, to speak. And this is what I have to say: these last eight years I have been trying every day to tell the world that Dan, Carrie, and Lisa matter to me, that their lives and deaths matter to me. I have tried to do it through more than words. I have tried to do it by caring and loving those around me. And I will continue to do this, until Death is no more. Until Jesus comes to us, to wipe away our every tear.