Being Thankful for B.J.

BJ, a former student, an outstanding football player, and a great friend, was killed in a tragic automobile accident on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. There was no visitation, but the family was at the home of grandparents. A memorial service was to be Sunday afternoon.
Saturday afternoon I set out to find the house where the family had gathered. This was one of those trips where God took the lead and I just followed. I drove right to the house and was welcomed in by grandparents. Their front room was a shrine of BJ. He was a fierce competitor on the athletic field; he loved hunting and fishing; but family and friendship was always first. While I never had BJ in class I watched him grow up as his mom taught with both Vicki and me. I sat at their dining room table and told BJ's mom that he was in heaven and he felt no pain. His suffering and any memory of suffering was extinguished at the time of his passing. I also assured her that he would not miss another family moment. She told me that she and her husband had seen him twice since the accident, once as deer in their front yard, and again as a lone Canada goose flying in the evening sky at sunset. Grandpa said he too had experienced BJ's presence. The family had made a cross to mark the spot on the roadway where the accident had occurred. It was a true work of art free from blemishes. When they placed it on the roadway, Grandpas noticed a flaw. He was sure that it was BJ in action. Grandpa said that he missed BJ messing with his hair and ruffling it up. While adjustments following a tragic death are hard and sometimes lenghty it seemed that this family was going to be alright. I truly felt good after that visit.
The memorial service on Sunday was a standing room only occasion. The standing filled the vestibule and many more filled the sidewalk and grounds outside. The program was a true testimony to the individual. A classmate was the minister in charge and his old football coach delivered the eulogy. Family and friends related story after story of the uniqueness and the genuine, sincere character of this fallen champion. All of this was wrapped tenderly in BJ’s trademark smile. He was a great man and it was a great day that we gave thanks for the life of B.J. It will be a pleasure to honor his life during the Thanksgiving season. And finally, B.J. did mess with grandpa’s hair. The swirling wind made it impossible for his hair to be anything but ruffled.

A Memorial to Josh Davis

The following is a memorial commentary sent to a good friend.
A Memorial to Josh Davis
Three years ago today God swoops down and reclaimed one of his own in the name of Josh Davis. You say, how could that be, Josh took his own life. God frowns on that kind of thing. Well, Josh's relationship with God began many years previous. I remember watching Josh grownup in the shadow of his big brother Justin. He was an active little boy, and he wanted to do everything big brother did. I remember one particular day Josh was especially excited as he had been baptized on Sunday and had accepted God as his own. Actually that could be the end of the story. When you accept Christ it is forever. Because of the nature of man and free will, we all make mistakes. Josh's last mistake was a big one, but it was just a mistake. A week later I attended another service for a young man who died from alcoholism. He lived a life of mistakes, but he did except God. I talked to a mutual friend about the situation and he said, that this young man tried hard to live right but his experiences just continued to result in failure, a failed life. He continued, sometimes people just can't make life's necessary adjustments, or they lose their way. Then God has to call them home. Josh started out like everyone else but circumstance took a heavy toll. When I attended his visitation three year ago, it must have been the coldest night of the year, spitting ice and snow. I remember the atmosphere inside the mortuary was one of grief and disbelief, maybe even anger. just as unsettled as the weather outside. On that cold evening in December there was no hope, no faith and little consolation. All I could think about was that young Josh and that day at school when he announced he had been baptized. I remember how proud he was. I know he is with God, and I wanted to shout it out. I know Josh is safe and happy at last.