How Could This Happen?

“Oh!”

She had just opened her phone to reply to a text.

“I only saw this now. I’m so sorry.” His voice doesn’t sound normal. She starts to reply to the message, as he calls out to her from the other room. “T was found unresponsive in his apartment!” Emotion is filling his voice.

Her first thought, the first words that come out of her mouth: “Is he okay? Where is he?” She is running down a mental checklist of what they will need to take with them to the hospital, but suddenly realizes what unresponsive means. Now, her mind is flooded. Thoughts race into her consciousness. The computer crashes. T is dead?

Reboot and reload and thoughts and images and words and sounds and so many memories fill up the screen. Tears explode. Questions. So many questions. Who wrote you? Who’s that? How do they know? What time did it happen? Do the girls know? Who are your writing? How could this happen?

“I should write J.”

Just then, J calls. Wanted to make sure they knew. too. He’s weeping. They’re all weeping. She begins to realize how many people are hurting right now—how many people his life touched. How could this happen?


The weight of grief falls so instantly. Grasping the size of this loss is impossible. There was no preparation for this, no opportunity to prepare for how bad it would feel. How could this happen?

God is on everyone’s mind. His sovereignty. His mercy. His kindness. God knows the worth of a life, the impact. The thoughts just keep coming. His first time at The Farm. The light in his eyes each time he mentions his girls. The tears that flow when he tells of God’s goodness. Or, when he mourns those who are still lost in their brokenness and sin. How could this happen?

Emails and text messages, carefully worded, fly away to the ones who will want to know. Their hearts are not prepared to be broken, and words cannot relieve the pain they are about to feel. All week long it’s, “Did you tell…? What about…? Does…know?”

Tears stop and start suddenly. Sleepless nights roll into one long state of unbelief. His best friend. How could this happen?

-cg

Please, click to read about Tom. He should be known and remembered.

Companions

I have been keeping company with Sadness today.

Sadness was a frequent guest last year. When the new year brought new loss, he set-up camp. I did not invite him, but he does not leave.

Most of the time, I find his company bearable. He is not usually oppressive. Present, but only passively imposing himself. Most days, I hold my focus on Happiness, and Sadness lurks in the shadows. I can almost convince myself he isn’t even there.

Then I turn a corner just a moment too soon, and come face-to-face with my old enemy. A painful confrontation. I am suddenly reminded of all that is lost, and Happiness is unseated.

Happiness is always fleeting.

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Ah, but I have learned not to depend on Happiness. She is my fickle friend. Hope is my true and steady friend; always near. I take her hand and face Sadness down.

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