Broken Hearts

Yesterday, we went to the memorial service for a former student of mine.  A 17 year old boy who took a corner too fast on a rainy day.  A mistake that took his life, forever altered his family, and left a community grieving.  Why?

There was a time of sharing at the service yesterday, stories of how much A like to eat, of how he always wore sunglasses, how he played and lived, how he loved to laugh, and how he had a deep faith in God.  It was the most beautiful memorial service I have ever attended and also the most awful.  And again, why?

One thing no one talked about yesterday was about how A was an amazing pianist.  He could work out any music I challenged him with, but he didn’t like music at all.  His mom and I would try everything, but there was just no love it.  Finally, she told A that he could quit when he could tell me he was quitting.  It took a year before he was able to do so because he didn’t want to “hurt my feelings.”  He was 15 at the time and he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.  Could someone please explain to me why him?

I’ve talked to friends.  “We will never understand this,” they say.  And I know, I know.  It is part of a broken world.  Living in this broken world means we will have many times in our lives when we ask why. 

A was loved by many.  He wasn’t perfect by any means.  Really, he was still a teenage boy.  He was still just a kid.  A kid who was looking forward to his senior year next year and talked about what he might want to do after he graduated.  My heart aches for his family and for the days ahead.  They’ve been so busy this past week as they prepared for yesterday’s service, but now they have to reorganize their family and their lives with one less person physically in it, but always in their hearts. 

Why?

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