Criminal charges are going to be filed

The woman who hit my brother Ben and killed him in November is going to be charged with misdemeanor vehicular homicide. My parents are driving to see the accident scene and speak with the D.A. Monday. Please cover them, the rest of us and the woman who is to be charged with prayer. She has suffered greatly already.

Thank you.

Because I can

Here's our sweet Ben, left, and Bubby. Those crazy boys were always playing guitar (Rowdy, too) and making Rally and me sing. This was Christmas 2006 at my parents' house -- can you tell Nannie collects Christmas bears? I've been missing Benjie a bunch lately, but apparently bereaved adult siblings are only allowed a brief grieving period so I'm supposed to be over it by now.

The Teacher

Today would have been Ben's 44th birthday, and it is my father's 72nd birthday. Cause for celebration, cause for a few private tears. And my brother Bubby wrote this beautiful lesson that I borrowed without permission to post here.

January 15, 2008

The Teacher: Sitting Down on the Job

Scripture:

Matthew 5: 1-2 (NIV):

Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him and he began to teach them, saying: (The Sermon on the Mount)

Luke 5: 1-3 (NIV): One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, with the people crowding around him and listening to the word of God, 2 he saw at the water's edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. 3sat down and taught the people from the boat. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he In Jesus' day the "teacher" would not stand behind separating lecterns or tower over his audience behind raised pulpits. No, in Jesus' day he would sit in a chair, on a stool, on a rock, in a boat, and truly teach the people. In return, the audience would normally sit also - in acknowledgement of the teacher's authority - and take the lower ground (literally sitting on the ground!). This would also invite the teacher to walk among the people so as to touch them, look them in the eye and truly connect with them. Jesus used this form of communication very effectively and it is possible that one reason the Church struggles today is that we have lost the ability and/or desire to connect with our audience in this way. I believe that the world has lost out on an opportunity to promote one such communicator, one whose desire to teach and to connect and to love was at his very core, is what made him "tick." He tried to jump through the hoops of the teaching establishment so he could gain access to our youngest ones while they were still impressionable, moldable. Unfortunately, they (whoever "they" are) were not ready for him and did not allow him into that prestigious club. Once again, as happened so many times in his life, he fell short of a dream's fulfillment because of another's lack of vision. But he was not to be thwarted! In the style of Jesus, whenever he could gain an audience, he would teach. He did not need a degree, an official position, permission or license. Just give him a subject and an opportunity to speak and he was off! Imagine if he had been allowed the opportunity to teach our young and impressionable, or even our old and impenetrable? Why can't we ALL be like that? When God gives us an opportunity to fulfill the Great Commission or even to commission our kids, let us follow the example of Jesus like my brother, Ben, did. Sit down. Make time. Connect. Love. Change the world. When I, in my own mind, tried to imagine Ben in Heaven, I saw him as a little boy either sitting at Jesus' feet, listening and asking questions like Jesus did at the Temple, or piling his plate with all the good stuff from God's table he had been forced to avoid on earth because he was diabetic. But in the dreams I feel God sent me to comfort me in my grief I saw Ben in a very different light. I saw him sitting down and teaching! What this really means, I'm not sure. But I would like to think that the world was just a training ground for Ben and his Heavenly reward was to get to eternally do what was his heart's desire here on earth: teach! In one dream I saw Ben sitting and teaching a group of people I recognized as his friends and they were sitting at his feet, on the ground, completely engrossed (like children) in what he was saying. In the other dream, Ben was teaching me. In his passionate way, as he sat - left hand on his knee, right hand chopping the air like a knife, leaning forward and looking me in the eye - he taught, "Bubby, I'm all right! I'm o- (chop) kay (chop)!" I hear you, Bro! Lesson learned! So, anyway, Happy Birthday, Teacher! I can't wait to sit at your feet again. Bubby

There's a great big Ben-shaped hole in my life

I'm getting ready to make turkey-shaped Thanksgiving cookies for our family dinner Sunday, and I think, "Ben will love these!" and then I stop...

I'm thinking about taking the kiddos to see Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, and I wonder if Ben has seen it yet, or if he'd like to go with us, and then I stop...

I buy a great Star Wars pop-up book as a Christmas gift and think I'd like to show it to Ben before I wrap it, and then I stop...

I need to stop.

"Afterimage" by Neil Peart (Rush)

Suddenly, you were gone
From all the lives you left your mark upon

I remember
How we talked and drank into the misty dawn
I hear the voices

We ran by the water on the wet summer lawn
I see the footprints
I remember

I feel the way you would
I feel the way you would

Tried to believe but you know it’s no good
This is something that just can’t be understood

I remember
The shouts of joy skiing fast through the woods
I hear the echoes

I learned your love for life,
I feel the way that you would
I feel your presence
I remember

I feel the way you would
This just can’t be understood...

Refined as silver

My middle brother, Bubby, sent an e-mail this morning to encourage us.

Malachi 3:3 says: "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."

This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God.

One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible study.

That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver.

As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities.

The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot; then she thought again about the verse that says: "He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver." She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined.

The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.

The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?"

He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy -- when I see my image in it."

Seen on a sign...

Everything looks different through tears.

Strength in song

Today I'm faltering, "So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings you glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise you
Jesus bring the rain"
--Mercy Me

A beautiful example of faith through grief

At The Well-Trained Mind forum, Cindy in C-ville comforted me with her friend's thoughts after he lost his little boy:
"He said that his understanding of the kingdom of God has expanded exponentially. Now, it's not like heaven is some far away place. For him, his little boy is in another room. They're both in the house, and in a way he can see through to it at times. Boy, does he long to be there with his sweet boy, but he knows he will be someday. For now, he wants to live in light of the reality of the kingdom - here and now, every moment for eternity - knowing that one day the fullness of the 'house' will be by sight, not only by faith."

Truer words never written

"(My life), indeed the whole of human experience, is made up of moments of rapture and regret, with long, empty spaces in between." --My brother Ben

He sleeps.

I hate funerals but I have to say that people are...better?...afterwards. My small hometown turned out and every person who expressed his sorrow and shared a memory blessed us and soothed an unbearable ache.

Anthony sobbed with us, couldn't even talk. Gentle hands reached out from everywhere and I knew them, even when I couldn't see the attached faces through my veil of tears. Comforting, feeding, moving us along when we couldn't take one more step. Elena's single red rose, Central High Class of 82's maroon and gold wreath. Four arrangements from his company, three from our church. One from a new neighbor who wasn't even sure how to spell his name. People everywhere...from church, from a newspaper where I haven't worked in eight years, from our homeschool group, from the fellowship ministry. Cashiers from the convenience stores whose computers were serviced by Ben. We would never have missed them if they hadn't been there, but there they were anyway.

Surprisingly, laughter. Cracking a joke to beat back the sorrow. "I know I can die now. If Ben can do it, how hard can it be?"

Most of all, the fear is gone. The worst has happened, and God kept his word and took care of us. May he continue to protect and refine our faith so that when we join Ben, he can say to us, "Are you here already? Dude, you should see YOUR mansion!"

"From Uncle Ben"

--By his nephew "Larry"

Please don't stand at my grave and cry
Because I am not there,
I'm only upstairs
In heaven.

Please don't mourn
Because I've been born
Again
In heaven.

Please don't weep
Because I'm not dead, just asleep,
But awake,
In heaven.

"Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."

It does not seem possible that I am about to write about my brother Ben's death. On Saturday, he was here in the dappled sunlight, swinging my children from his arms and dropping them onto the soft front yard grass. Listening to them...really listening to them, like only a bachelor uncle can...as they told him their secrets and tales. Excited about seeing his high school classmates at his 25th reunion that night, fretting about the wrinkles in the microsuede shirt he planned to wear, showing off his brand-new company van. Carrying a pack of orange Orbit gum in his shirt pocket instead of those revolting cigarettes.

It does not seem possible that it was just last night that a sheriff's deputy called my home and asked me to come be with my mom and dad because my brother Ben was killed in a car accident. That the computer equipment in his van was thrown forward and crushed him when a woman crossed the center line on a curve, hitting him head-on. That he died at the crash scene of massive internal injuries.

It does not seem possible that my three surviving brothers, my parents and I wavered between utter disbelief and acceptance as we clung to each other in my childhood home all the long, long night, and grieved. It does not seem possible that this morning I was writing my brother Ben's obituary or fielding calls from shocked friends and family. Or that I was choosing his burial clothing from his things, and wondering if dead people wear underwear.

Most of all, it does not seem possible that my brother Ben, who slid off barn roofs, told ghost stories, saw the bombing of Beirut, introduced my children to Star Wars and Lord of the Rings and Razzles, cracked himself up with corny stories, never slept and was a computer genius; who finally, finally had his life together, has gone to Jesus' arms, and I cannot follow just yet.