I was driving around town running errands a few weeks ago and found myself getting increasingly frustrated every time I had to stop at a red light. I had my plans, I was on a schedule, and my agenda had to come to a standstill too many times as I was forced to stop and wait for the light to change so I could get on with my day. I don’t like it when my plans get interrupted.

How trivial.

Four days ago a wonderful young man loved by so many unexpectedly took his last breath in the waters off Baja as he was, in the words of those who knew him best, “doing what he loved the most.” His sudden death has brought the lives of his beloved family, dear friends, and even the family and friends of his family and friends, to a complete standstill as they try to come to terms with this devastating loss. I know, because I am the mother of one of those friends and I am mourning his passing as well. He was special — one of those rare individuals who lived his life in such a way as to leave an indelible impact upon everyone who knew him. There are no words to express how much he will be missed and he will never be forgotten as his memory lives on in the lives of all who were honored enough to know and love him.

When I think of the outpouring of love from all of the broken hearts, there are, again, no words to describe this love which is palpable and fills the atmosphere. It is the love of a mother for her handsome boy, a father for his precious son, a choked up stepdad, sisters for the big brother they looked up to and admired, his grandmother and extended family, his friends who were really more like family, and yes, the love of people like me who love those whose hearts are torn and in shreds — we are hurting too.

And then when I think about all of us, who are made in the image of God with the capacity to love like that, I realize it doesn’t even begin to compare to God’s love for each single, solitary soul. He fashioned each of us for loving relationships so we can perhaps begin to grasp, even if only slightly, “how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge” (Ephesians 3:18-19).

Our Heavenly Father loves us and knows our pain. After all, He watched His one and only Son die on the cross. That was the whole purpose of sending Him to us in the first place. Jesus left the glories of heaven and became a man to walk and live among us so we could realize the compassion He has for the people He made. God loves us and wants us to be with Him forever so he sacrificed his Son to die in our place, paying the penalty for our sin, in order to secure this hope for us. But it didn’t end there. After he died He rose again and returned to Heaven where He is today. He spoke words of comfort to his followers when He said, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.” (John 14:1-3)

Even before Jesus was born it was said of Him, “He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces” (Isaiah 25:8). And the last book in the Bible promises that in Heaven “there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain” (Revelation 21:4). It must be a wonderful place, this Heaven. “That is what the Scriptures mean when they say, ‘No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him'” (1 Corinthians 2:9). For me, during times like this when all is stripped away and our hearts are laid bare, the knowledge of the reality of Heaven is a beacon of hope. This is not our home and there are better days ahead.

But I don’t like that everyone’s lives have come to a screeching halt, interrupted by this tragic loss. Actually, I hate it. It hurts so much to lose such an amazing young man with his whole life ahead of him. It was too soon and there are no answers, no words, no way of knowing on this side of Heaven the reasons why. And so we grieve, but not as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). It is with confidence that we can — and dare I say must — hold fast to the promises of God. We have the sure hope of Heaven to sustain us, knowing we will be reunited again one day.

Nate, I am so glad I met you. I look forward to getting to know you better when I see you again in Heaven. I hope I get the opportunity to know your mom while here on earth. Even though I haven’t met her, I have felt a kinship with her for a few years now. I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances, but I think you will smile down on us if we discover that we are indeed “two peas in a pod.” 

Holding fast,

Lisa

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. (Isaiah 41:10)

_{Photography by Marcus Dall Col}