dear jonny

.some of the most painful words i have ever written…spoken on the day we said our final goodbye.

words.

they are powerful.

they have the power to impact us in a way that nothing else ever could.

jonny knew the indelibility of words and thus he used them sparingly.

when jonny spoke, others listened.

winston churchill once said,

“courage is what it takes to stand up and speak, it’s also what it takes to sit down and listen.”

jonny had that strength and courage in a greater capacity than anyone i have ever known.

the night of january 20th i stood crying, remembering the words i had written to jonny five years ago.  words i never shared with him.  words that i so desperately wish i had.  as i stood there, struggling to see through the tears i read those words back to myself and knew what I needed to share today.

i share these thoughts with you today, some of which are intertwined with that original letter i wrote all those year ago, written to the man i will forever be privileged to call my brother…

dear jonny,

words aren’t coming easily right now.

the words i’ve wanted to say seem to have left with you.

you and i shared a love of words.  we couldn’t always speak aloud what was on our hearts to share, but we could write them.

so i am writing them to you now, praying you knew them in your heart, even though i for some reason could never share them before now.

the pain that was plaguing your soul has been forefront in my mind.  the pain that we couldn’t understand because we never experienced what you did, but the pain we knew was there.  and then i think of Jude.  your little buddy, the little boy who looked at you with awe-filled eyes.  the little boy who felt so at peace in your strong and capable arms.  the little boy who knew you would always be there to carry him, to hold him up when the body he’s been given couldn’t.  then my heart breaks all over again.  i am overwhelmed by the pain of this broken world.  why would a loving and gracious God allow you to carry a pain that broke your soul, and my little boy to struggle each day just to complete the simplest of tasks.  God didn’t have to allow jude to be born with the struggles He did, He could have healed his broken little body.  God could have taken away the pain that you struggled so deeply with, but He didn’t. He didn’t for reasons i will never ever understand.

then i come to a place of questioning, and i know you did too.

do i choose to pursue the God who allowed the pain but who has also provided a way of escape?  i am struggling greatly with the choice because my soul feels so corroded with the pain i have allowed to saturate it.  yet, i know deep down that giving in won’t ever fix anything.  pretending like i don’t know the God who loves me deeply won’t solve my problems.

then it hits me once again.

i am confronted with the indescribable joy that i see in my little boy’s eyes every time i look at his face.  looking into jude’s eyes has often been the only time i have seen Jesus over the past few years. when i look at the peace in his eyes and the joy in his smile, i see Jesus.  when i hold him with tears pouring down my face and feel his sweet wet kisses on my cheek I feel as though Jesus is holding me and reminding me that He is still there.  He is still there in the midst of the pain and the not understanding and the anger.  Jesus has continued to pursue my heart using the same pain that has also caused my brokenness.  when i look at jude i see a God who is also hurting, hurting right with me because of the darkness which has taken root in His world.  yet when i look at jude i also see a God who is gracious and kind and Who has chosen to give a little boy who struggles with so much a smile that radiates a joy not of this world.  and now, through the tears, as i reflect on all of the pictures of you holding him, i know you saw it too.

then I am taken back even further, to an image forever seared in my memory.  a picture of another little boy, laying on a big floor pillow, sucking his thumb, and softly stroking the dog cuddled up next to him.  i still remember the peace in your eyes.  the serenity that seemed to be holding you in that place.

and i see Jesus again.  i see Him in your eyes, the way you loved so deeply and often without words.  the way you held those around you with a strength not of this world.  the way your eyes sparkled with a smile that sometimes wouldn’t quite reach your lips.  you, jonny boy, have reminded me of a God who stands in the still quiet moments and waits.  waits for our hearts to be ready to hear His call.  you will forever remain in my most vivid memory as the quiet little boy who laid there held by a peace that was palpable, who’s spirit exuded a strength that wasn’t held captive by the demands of this world.  the pain you carried may have broken your heart, but it never changed who you were.  you carried it with a strength that i will forever stand in awe of.   

as i remember who you were, there are countless beautiful reminders that even in the midst of the pain and chaos of this world, God is our haven, He is our refuge from the storm.  His love has been poured out on us in ways that are unfathomable.  there will continue to be pain, but i pray in the midst of that we choose to cling to the joy which can be found if our eyes and souls are only open to embracing its sweet relief.

i love you jonny boy.

each of my herd, as you so affectionately called them, will forever be shaped and molded by the life you lived.  their hearts will forever be changed by yours.

love for always.

.january 20, 2024.

memorial images captured by steve cowell photo