I’ve consulted a number of articles on content creation, SEO, marketing, graphics, and blogging. Normally, when I write these things, I take all this into consideration before putting a post together. Tonight, you won’t see that. Tonight is no filter, no line between you and me but the screen you have chosen to read this on. No linguistic tricks or debate. This is what happened today:
I was in the shower when Val came into the bathroom breathless and upset. She informed me that, last night, the pastor of our home church and his wife were involved in a serious motorcycle accident. Bryan and Lynn Koch loved to ride a motorcycle. Someone in an SUV crossed the line and hit them head on. Lynn died at the scene. She had just been ordained last month. Her and Bryan had delivered the message on Mother’s Day together. Bryan is in ICU with severe injuries, his left leg amputated and multiple times in surgery coming up. They have three sons and had just found out they would be grandparents in October.
After work, Val and I went to church to pray. They had opened the sanctuary all week and had provided counselors on site. Wednesday night we have a church-wide prayer service. As we sat in the darkened sanctuary we prayed with others and poured our hearts out to help this family that has been destroyed. When Val and I left the church we were met with swirling storm clouds. The rest of the night was punctuated in thunderstorms, rain, and funnel clouds spotted in the area.
This afternoon I get a text message that my grandmother, Hazel Shaner, had passed away in the hospital. She had lived a full 98 years. Her husband, my grandfather, had passed away three years ago. They were married for almost 70 years. I spent my summers, before working full-time jobs, at their house while my mother worked. This woman anchored a family through WW2, numerous dinners and holidays, ups and downs. I was honored to have her as a grandmother. She reflected what it meant to love God and love your neighbor. She impacted the lives of so many and was the rock that built this family.
So here I am. In days like this you find yourself standing in the darkness, looking across the room at the only thing that could be there. You look at God and you ask why. I believe Lynn is in Heaven and experiencing the fullness of joy. Could you imagine, being in an ICU bed and not knowing you have lost your wife? Her parents, tonight, are driving in from Ohio.
The church, our church, is beaten down and mired in sorrow.
But it is not over.
I believe joy comes in the morning. I believe in bigger and greater things, in ministries that touch this community and change the world. I believe in healing, in recovery, and that Pastor Bryan will walk across the stage to deliver a sermon again. I believe in miracles, in the presence of God felt with electric reality. I believe in lives changed, that Lynn’s loss will not be for nothing, that her and Bryan’s story will change the lives of those that hear it.
Yet, for tonight, there is darkness. Thunder still crashes around our house. The boys are sleeping. I’m typing and I’m here, like you, having the hardest day I’ve had in a long time.
I ask you to pray. Pray for Bryan and Lynn’s family. Pray for their boys as they figure out a way to live. Pray for their grandchild, that Bryan will get a chance to hold him in the future. Pray for their extended families and our church. Pray for peace.
As for me, I’ll make it through. There is so much more involved here. Keep your eyes up with me. Dawn will come soon.