Yesterday was a big day for me. I had the great privilege of speaking at the Baptist General Convention Pastors’ Conference. Yes, you read that right. Me, the drug addict, divorced, depressed, liar, cheater, and thief spoke to over 300 pastors from all across the state. I was the only one on the program without a “Dr.” in front of my name. It was a big deal to me and probably an even bigger deal to my parents. It was a celebration, one of those moments where you revel in the grace of God, passionately embrace those who have walked the journey with you, and sit back and enjoy the fruits of your hard work. It was a great morning.
But just a few short hours after I finished my phone begin to blow up with messages that read…
“Have you heard?”
“I can’t believe this”
“I’m really sad right now”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Did you hear that Jake died?”
In a matter of moments I went from celebration to a tragedy. My very best friend from my time in treatment had passed away. As I stood there and stared at the phone, my body almost shut down from the swing in emotions. It seemed too much for me to handle. I had to sit down and breathe for a bit.
You see, I loved this guy. He was an incredible gift to the world. He was full of potential and one of those guys that had it all. He was the whole package. Handsome, athletic, smart, funny, witty, and well-spoken. Most of all, he had this unique gift of making you feel like he really cared about you. In every conversation we ever had, he gave me his all. He would hang on every word, quick to ask questions, never drifting off, but always fully engaged. He was special. Man, was he special.
I’ll never forget the night he came to me, and I could tell that his quest to find God had come to a head. He asked several questions and I answered them as best I could. Near the end of the conversation I asked him if he was ready to make Jesus the Lord and Savior of his life. He said he was, and so we made our way into the tiny chapel at Rob’s Ranch and kneeled under the cross. It was there that we prayed the sinner’s prayer together. It was a weighty moment for both of us, a bonding experience at the heart level that I’ll take with me forever.
Life is full of celebrations and tragedies. Up and downs. Twists and turns. But I think what’s most important is not the valleys or the peaks, but the in-betweens. It’s the listening to Chicago with one ear bud in your ear and the other in your new best friend’s as you play spades only 20 days sober. It’s laying by the pool talking about girls and God. It’s laughing for hours, it’s inside jokes, it’s tear-filled conversations, it’s arguments over the Beatles or the Stones.
It’s the space between the celebrations and the tragedies that we call life. It’s in those slow, seemingly ordinary moments that we make our most profound impact on each other.
Make moments like that today. You never know when your time will come.
RIP Jake, I will never forget you. See you when I get there. I love you.
