2008: Nothing's Ever Promised Tomorrow Today

I don't know that anyone is ever prepared when death comes upon a loved one. But in most circumstances, you have some warning: a grandmother with Alzheimer's disease, a father with cancer, or just plain old age that makes a person vulnerable. Of course, that never makes it feel any less shocking when it actually hits. Suddenly, this very important, beloved person in your life is no longer there. Life passes to death in a moment, and there is no preparation for knowing you'll never be able to talk or laugh with them again.

I just lost a dear friend to a very sudden and untimely, hit-and-run car accident on New Year's Day. One of her twin sons was also taken by the crash. Her husband and their other son survive them. And the fragility of life and all that we think we possess have startlingly been brought to my attention to start off this new year of 2008.

Though my heart is heavy and things in my life that seemed so important just a few days ago suddenly seem much smaller and yet much more difficult to do, I'm humbled by her husband's response in the midst of a bigger personal tragedy than most people will ever experience: That in heartbreak, he is so grateful for the time he had with his wife and 4-year-old son, which he sees as undeserved gifts to him from God, and that he'll see them again soon as life is short in the span of eternity. Some people may call this crazy talk -- I say they are the words of a man who knows well that God loves him and is unchangingly good, even when we are thrust into circumstances we may never understand the reason for. These are things I myself am still trying to learn...

As I begin what I've already been sensing is a new season of my life marked by the end of 2007, I do so with this perspective: that my life and all that it entails is borrowed, not anything I'm entitled to. We are all dust in the end. As for me, I believe there's something far more amazing that awaits after death, though I know not all carry that same hope. And I'm grateful that gives me the one thing that can't be taken away.

My friend's last words to me were in passing when I saw her at a wedding a few weeks ago. They were in regards to plans we were making for my best friend's upcoming bachelorette party: "Tina, please tell me we're not doing Thunder Down Under!" Her great sense of humor matched her beauty and life. And god, I'll miss her.

Midi Kim Mikasa -- we will grieve your loss for months and years to come. I know I can only strive to be the person of quiet, genuine love and joy you were. The world lost one of its great saints yesterday, and we know it.