September has never really been a happening month... school starts, the season changes, and people pull out their box of winter clothes – at least that is how it works where I'm from. September had always lived its ordinarily boring life, that is up until I was nearly 17.
Just a few short weeks before my seventeenth birthday tragedy struck my family in the most un-welcomed way. Just before the month of September was over my family embraced the news that my cousin had died... not only died but took his own life. I don't really care what people think or say, the theology behind it is whatever to me, but I believe that even suicide can be used as God's means of bringing his children home – and so, I truly believe that my strong, brave, loving cousin is resting peacefully in the arms of God.
September holds a whole new meaning for me now.
Every September the cold air settles in, and so does the emptiness in my heart.
My cousin was, in my young mind's understanding, always so much older than me. I only really remember looking up to him, and the way he looked up to my Dad, and a few scattered memories of him teasing me, picking on me, and of us goofing off with all our siblings. I have been told stories several stories of his big heart, his service to the Kingdom, his passions, and his pursuits of being a light to the world. So I know, without a doubt, that my cousin was a good man.
We have all found different means of embracing new life since losing my cousin. And, we have all found different ways to remember and honor my cousin's precious life. Immediately following my cousin's death a couple of his friends put together bracelets in his honor... I wore that bracelet until it was worn right off my wrist.
Carry the Torch. CRM.
This September marked the six year anniversary of our abrupt goodbye, the six year anniversary of the painful wave that swept through my family like a hurricane.
I was sitting in darkness this year, September 26th, 27th, 28th. I was remembering this year, year 1, 2, 3. I spent extra time with my family, I looked at old pictures, I cried, I laughed, and I committed to doing a better job at carrying on Christopher's torch. As the 28th of September came to a close, so did yet another story in my life. On the very tail end of my efforts of remembering my cousin's life and legacy, I received more tragic September news.
Attending Bible College for four years people come and go into you life on a regular basis. You make friends they graduate, you make friends YOU graduate... sometimes you make friends that carry through all your years. Laminin was that. Laminin came to Davis College when I was a Sophomore, and immediately found a home in everyone's heart. He was kind, friendly, loving, funny, joyful, and always always smiling. Even in his down moments, he found a way to give glory to God – and if you didn't feel loved after interacting with him, there was something wrong with you.
On the 28th Laminin went missing, and through events that are still very unclear to the public, he drowned in a local river. On Friday, the 30th, the Police released a statement that even though they haven't found him yet they can confirm that do not expect to find him alive.
We all mourn. We all grieve.
Sometimes I sit in the darkness, and I cry.
Sometimes I sit in the light, and I cry.
Sometimes I listen to worship music, and I cry.
One September tragedy? Now another?
I know Lam wouldn't want us to cry, so I try not to. I know that Laminin, and Christopher, are with God. I know that they are satisfied.
It still hurts. I'm still mourning, I'm still grieving.
Six years, and six days later.
Right after I received the news of Laminin's death, or even just his disappearance, God gave me the lyrics to a song.
All of my life, in every season, You are still God and I have a reason to sing... I have a reason to worship. - Desert Song, Hillsong
Six years, six days later... God is still God, and even though the loss of loved ones is never a joyful moment I have a reason to sing.
Even writing this my eyes fill with salty tears, tears that I don't regret shedding. I love both of these men and the little parts that they've played in my life. And, I am truly grateful that God gave me the opportunity to love them. I do hurt still, I hurt for those who hurt the most from the loss of their loved ones. I hurt for their families, I hurt for their friends, and I hurt for the communities that have felt the void of their missing members. I do, however, rejoice in their lives. I rejoice in the impact they've made on the world, and I rejoice in the legacy they left behind.
Six Years, Six days later... I still hurt, but I will Praise.
I will bring Praise, I will bring Praise, no weapon formed against me shall remain. I will rejoice, I will declare God is my victory and He is here.
Beautiful. Thank you for writing the way you have been gifted to do so. Your words resound to me and my eyes need a minute to regain focus from the water that trickled through them. Last night I thought of a friend lost and my heart is still tender from the recollection and simply praising God for the time I spent with him. Although I know you have pain, find a bit of comfort in the great amount of encouragement that you have just given to me to keep praise ever on my tongue. Thank you Liz.
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