Blessed be the name of the Lord
I've been pretty silent on here for a while.
Part of that is because I have two jobs and not as many adventures.
Most of it is because on the night of 30 June when I was having the usual hang out time with a buddy, I started to get text messages about one of my other buddies who was fighting fire in AZ.
Had I heard from him? Did I know what was going on?
I was clueless.
But within moments I began to understand the gravity of the situation.
Nineteen hotshots lost in a fire. "What do you mean lost?"
Dead.
"Are you sure? Please please let me know when you know for sure."
Pit in my stomach and tightening throat and burning eyes. Going through the motions while waiting to hear what my heart already knew to be true.
The stars were brilliant while we stood outside in the darkness. A cool breeze after a hot day.
Silence broken by short sentences.
Then it came and I couldn't make myself say the words out loud.
"Dustin is in heaven."
Oh God. Oh God.
My heart's cry when my mind could not wrap itself around the reality of my so vibrantly alive friend being gone from this earth and when no other thoughts could be formed.
All we could do was hold each other and weep.
Then we went to say the hardest words I have ever said, hug others in our little circle of friends, cry and pour our raw hearts out before God.
We sorrow. But not without hope.
Not without hope.
I am not sure I can even express how healing it has been to my heart to have the knowledge that Dustin lived his relationship with Christ clearly evidenced to the rest of his hotshot crew. Or how his testimony has been broadcast to the world through his death. Or how the bond of Christ is so, so strong and how much God has been glorified. Community is an amazing thing. You can see how much this tragedy has brought together the fire community... but so much more than that close brotherhood is the community of believers. It's a gift to know that, as my buddy said the next day when we were all sleep deprived and appetite-less and dealing with raging headaches, "Dustin is living my hope." He's before the throne of God now, with Christ. This is what I am waiting for, longing for.
It has been so surreal to see Dustin's name blasted all over the media and to see pictures of our shenanigans online. I went back into the archives to see if I could find a "normal" picture of him... I couldn't. Always a goofy face or pose or in the middle of teasing someone. I guess that was normal for him, and part of what made him Dustin. He was his own man, never to conform for the sake of acceptance or approval. He knew why he did what he did or why he believed what he believed and lived accordingly. He was generous and sensitive to the needs of other people. He saw beyond the stereotypes.
I struggle to put to words all that Dustin meant, all that he was. I can't.
It's characteristic of humanity to paint golden pictures of people after they die. I am not going to say that Dustin and I always got along or that I always thought he was awesome. He drove me crazy sometimes. And I am sure that I drove him crazy more often than he drove me crazy.
Still. He was my brother in Christ and God is so good to have given me the gift of knowing him and of making all sorts of ridiculous memories both while we were at school and while we were out of school.
Tomorrow I am going to join hundreds of other people in celebration and remembrance of his life. It will be nice to have some closure after two long weeks. I suppose some would like to say that he will be smiling down on us from heaven. I beg to differ. He is finally before the throne of his Savior and you can bet that he is spending his time and energy and attention in joyful worship and adoration. I can't wait to join him.
Part of that is because I have two jobs and not as many adventures.
Most of it is because on the night of 30 June when I was having the usual hang out time with a buddy, I started to get text messages about one of my other buddies who was fighting fire in AZ.
Had I heard from him? Did I know what was going on?
I was clueless.
But within moments I began to understand the gravity of the situation.
Nineteen hotshots lost in a fire. "What do you mean lost?"
Dead.
"Are you sure? Please please let me know when you know for sure."
Pit in my stomach and tightening throat and burning eyes. Going through the motions while waiting to hear what my heart already knew to be true.
The stars were brilliant while we stood outside in the darkness. A cool breeze after a hot day.
Silence broken by short sentences.
Then it came and I couldn't make myself say the words out loud.
"Dustin is in heaven."
Oh God. Oh God.
My heart's cry when my mind could not wrap itself around the reality of my so vibrantly alive friend being gone from this earth and when no other thoughts could be formed.
All we could do was hold each other and weep.
Then we went to say the hardest words I have ever said, hug others in our little circle of friends, cry and pour our raw hearts out before God.
We sorrow. But not without hope.
Not without hope.
I am not sure I can even express how healing it has been to my heart to have the knowledge that Dustin lived his relationship with Christ clearly evidenced to the rest of his hotshot crew. Or how his testimony has been broadcast to the world through his death. Or how the bond of Christ is so, so strong and how much God has been glorified. Community is an amazing thing. You can see how much this tragedy has brought together the fire community... but so much more than that close brotherhood is the community of believers. It's a gift to know that, as my buddy said the next day when we were all sleep deprived and appetite-less and dealing with raging headaches, "Dustin is living my hope." He's before the throne of God now, with Christ. This is what I am waiting for, longing for.
It has been so surreal to see Dustin's name blasted all over the media and to see pictures of our shenanigans online. I went back into the archives to see if I could find a "normal" picture of him... I couldn't. Always a goofy face or pose or in the middle of teasing someone. I guess that was normal for him, and part of what made him Dustin. He was his own man, never to conform for the sake of acceptance or approval. He knew why he did what he did or why he believed what he believed and lived accordingly. He was generous and sensitive to the needs of other people. He saw beyond the stereotypes.
I struggle to put to words all that Dustin meant, all that he was. I can't.
It's characteristic of humanity to paint golden pictures of people after they die. I am not going to say that Dustin and I always got along or that I always thought he was awesome. He drove me crazy sometimes. And I am sure that I drove him crazy more often than he drove me crazy.
Still. He was my brother in Christ and God is so good to have given me the gift of knowing him and of making all sorts of ridiculous memories both while we were at school and while we were out of school.
Tomorrow I am going to join hundreds of other people in celebration and remembrance of his life. It will be nice to have some closure after two long weeks. I suppose some would like to say that he will be smiling down on us from heaven. I beg to differ. He is finally before the throne of his Savior and you can bet that he is spending his time and energy and attention in joyful worship and adoration. I can't wait to join him.
Comments
but you are right. we will see him again!