I’m not really sure how I am supposed to act. What I am supposed to say. What I should be doing. My world has been tilted on its axis and to be honest, if I didn’t have the Lord next to me holding my hand, I am pretty sure I’d have fallen off by now.
Hold up. What? I guess I might explain myself better than that. I’ll try, but although it’s getting better, my thoughts are kind of a mess.
Mike died. You know Mike, he has been a part of my life for ages, first as the older brother to a friend, the friend of my sister, the son of my parents friends, then as my friend, as my boy friend, and finally as a best friend. He died on July 29th while on vacation in BC with his entire immediate family. They were cliff jumping and on his second jump, he didn’t resurface. The next morning the RCMP dive team headed out and within three hours had found his body- he had been underwater for 22 hours.
I miss him. Before anything else I hope that much is clear and obvious. Truthfully I missed him before, as we have had some distance between us for the last few months, I had been hoping recently that perhaps we might get past that and be ok again, back to hanging out as much as we have in the past, but I guess it’s too late now.
I’ve been struggling with his death, as anyone does, but even more so because it is Mike. He is, unquestionably, the closest thing I’ve ever had outside of my immediate family, knows me best, and closest to my heart. I have never known anyone else so full of life, so determined to have a good time, someone so willing to give up his own interests and spare time in order to help those around him and to spend time with the youth. He has grown so much in his faith the last few years and it has been a pleasure to watch. But somehow, despite all this, despite the huge impact he was having on the youth and the world that was opening up for him as he left his career to learn more about the Lord he loved and in his own words, ‘being ready to go’ wherever the Lord might call him, despite this, he was called Home.
I find peace in many little things surrounding his death. A week and a half before he died, his younger sister got married. Personally, despite the distance that was between us, I had a ridiculously strong urge to go, I felt I had to be there, that I had to show him my support and that even though we weren’t spending time together, he still mattered to me, I can only hope he understood and realized how much I still care. So I arranged to be off work early, and headed out to the wedding (which was beautiful). Afterwards I had another strong urge, I had to talk to him. So I did. At the time it seemed odd, but now I understand why. As we caught up, I learnt he had sold his house in St. Albert, was taking the insurance off his crotch rocket, was working his way through his Bible, was really excited for the upcoming mission trip to Slovakia, and thrilled about entering the program at Mount Caramel Bible College. He told me in no uncertain terms that he had pretty much cut off his ties here, that there was no longer anything holding him back and he was ready to go. When I asked where in particular, he kinda looked at me funny and told me “Wherever God wants me to be”. It was a powerful statement and one I never would have guessed would be put into practice so soon. After our talk and a quick jaunt through the receiving line, I slipped away without a good bye and left him to family and friends and the celebration surrounding Kari and Jordans’ union. He was happy, strong in his faith, and truly getting into what he felt God wanted him to do, it’s all I needed to know at that time.
I realize now a lot of things surrounding that short conversation. My strong, inexplicable urge to go to the wedding, wasn’t of my own decision. I believe completely that God wanted me to go, to speak to Mike, to catch up on life and see how content he was, how on fire he had become for the Lord, how happy he was with his life, and how much he was anticipating whatever his Savior might throw at him. I’ve thought long and hard in the last couple weeks and cannot remember the last time we had talked outside of that talk, possibly going all the way back to his birthday on April 8, when we stood outside church, looking at my brand new car, and catching up. The Lord wanted me to have a good and recent conversation to remember His servant, to remember my best friend. And it worked. I had known before that Mike had grown in his faith, had watched it happen really, but hearing him say he was reading his Bible (especially as he was not a reader) and that he was ready to go out into God’s Kingdom and spread the news, was such a blessing that I couldn’t be more grateful for those ten minutes or so I got to speak to him.
I believe that there are other little blessings surrounding his death:
I know without a doubt that he was having a heck of a time. Anyone who knew Mike knows he loved adventure and fun, and what could be better than jumping from 70 feet into the water surrounded by the family that he cared so much about.
I find peace and reassurance in the fact that he was knocked unconscious upon impact with the water and that the chances of him being aware of the fact his time on earth was finished were very slim. For me, there is great peace in knowing that while he might of been thinking, this is gonna hurt, it’s doubtful he would have assumed more than that.
The discovery of his body, as terrible as that may seem. I guess last year at least three people died there, jumping from those cliffs, and their bodies were not found. The fact that his was found so quickly following the arrival of the dive team, on a ledge some 72 feet underwater, is proof of God’s mercy, His comfort for those left behind to mourn.
There is a couple verses that someone mentioned to Shelly, and I am so grateful for it, because it seems to be a direct answer for why God would take someone like Mike.
Isaiah 57
1 The righteous perish,
1 The righteous perish,
and no one ponders it in his heart;
devout men are taken away,
and no one understands
that the righteous are taken away
to be spared from evil.
2 Those who walk uprightly
enter into peace;
they find rest as they lie in death.
And finally, although I’m not sure blessing is the right word for it, someone made an interesting point to me a few days ago. He was competitive- once again not a secret. he loved to win, to be first. Somehow, although I wish it weren’t true, I wish it wasn’t the case, and I wish he was still with us so I could speak to him again, so I could tell him how I feel, how much he means to me- Mike definitely loved to be first, the first to finish something, the first to try something, so I suppose he should be the first to get to Heaven, the first to meet our Maker face to face, the first to sing praises with the Heavenly Host. He is gonna be standing at St. Peters gate, waiting to show us around when we get there, and I doubt there will be a better guide, because he will have tried everything to the max!
I could go on and on, but I have to get ready for work, proof that somehow, life must go on. Truthfully, I just keep waiting to wake up, I keep hoping that I am going to roll over, hit the alarm, and find out that the last two and a half weeks were a terrible dream, denial is a great coping mechanism I don’t care what people tell you otherwise. I am angry with God, there is no question about it, but my sister-in-law tells me that it is ok to be angry with Him (don’t believe it? Read the Psalms!), it is a relationship after all, we don’t always have to be happy with what happens. Even through my anger, I know He has a purpose for it, one that I will likely never understand.
I will miss you Mike, may you rest in peace, may you explore every inch of Heaven, and I will see you when I get there, can’t wait to see you when I get there. God Bless
