It is interesting to me how much it means when someone asks about a particular memory of my son. We are at a place where few people know us, and even fewer actually knew BJ.

Yesterday, at lunch I was asked if BJ enjoyed a particular thing. It felt so amazing to have been asked. Usually, I find I struggle with wanting to work him into conversations. Seldom is it appropriate, but often, I will stop listening to the other as they talk, because I will get lost in thought about him or particular memories of him.

His absence creates a need within to keep him alive, at least his memory. I am not talking about spiritual things, necessarily, just everyday silly or fun things that he contributed to a situation.

He continues to be so much a part of who we are, that when his memory fades or is even absent in others, it seems like our responsibility to keep him out in front. I have found that this is uncomfortable in some situations, and is not a practice that is important for most others. I am sure that it is not unusual for parents who have lost children to do so. I am equally sure that most of the world is not equipped to deal with this issue. It seems pathetic at times.

I don't like being pathetic. It is painful, uncomfortable...even embarrassing.

I can honestly say that time is passing so quickly right now, that often I have to convince myself of what month it is.

Seasons are different, surroundings are different, people are different, yet my thoughts seem to reside back in the days when the world made a little more sense to me. When I had three children to raise, to love on, to hug..to hold.

The Lord has provided many opportunities for us to love on our daughters, both in person, and from a distance. Sometimes, it just seems like there is something so unfair about it all.

There is a popular fairy-tale movie that carries the line, "I died that day." The circumstances were a world apart from our own, but too often, I feel like the line applies.

There are days when life seems like an out of body experience. I know I am here, I am doing things, even being productive. However, the recovering addict motto of "fake it 'til you make it," seems to be where things are. Just trying to go through the motions of being alive and of value until such time that I really live.

Each day brings new situations, new drama, new dilemmas, new joy, new friends...new challenges. But sometimes, the greatest challenge of all, is just truly trying to live, when a part of me has died.

I think I will lose some of you here, but I believe that our lives in Christ are similar...hopefully without the melancholy, and sad tones.

That day that we surrendered ourselves to His Lordship and Saving grace, we gave up our rights to ourselves. It is no longer to be us who live, but Him through us. We impact our world, those around us as a result. We stop measuring time in the same way.

We seek faithfulness, and obedience to Him, and not the pursuit of fulfillment of self. Much of what I have described above is my own inner desire to have the things that bring fulfillment in a way that I no longer have access to...at least not as it once was.

My life now is to be about Christ, and Him crucified and resurrected. Not that it wasn't before Beej's death, but the reality has set in so much deeper, and hopefully has equipped us as a family to be available to minister in new ways...ways designed by the Master.

Yielding control will always be a struggle. Sometimes I just want what I want.

Fortunately, I serve a King who gives me grace, allows me to struggle so that I grow, and finds me to be a little more like Him, and a little less like me, each day.

I am thankful for what once was, what is, and what is yet to come. Sometimes I just need help keeping it all in focus.

dad