We just got back from a friend's memorial service. Not my parents' friend. My friend.
His name was Zach.
I met him first when I was ten. We first met as kids having to hang out because our parents were friends and got together frequently. That's how I first got to know Zach and his younger brother, Ben. Then we hung out because our moms became good friends and met each other each and every Monday. Whenever Mom met her friend, she took Olivia and I along. Later on, we hung out because it was something we liked to do.
For three years, we were good friends. Maybe even best friends. He was three years older than I but he was so engaging, so kindly; he never seemed to mind two little girls tagging along after him. But, as we got to know each other, it was Liv and Ben who tagged after us.
We played all sorts of games, jumped on the trampoline, walked to Burger King and felt very grown up. They came over for dinner, we were in Explorer's Club together, we shared the same likes and dislikes. He gave me CDs and I made him watch sentimental movies. (He made me laugh for hours after jumping up in the middle of watching "Peter Pan 2" and shouting, "I BELIEVE IN FAIRIES!") We went kayaking once, even went to the golf course.
Zach had the ability to connect with whomever he met. He could meet someone for the first time and his open, joyful manner had them opening up within minutes. He was kind, hilarious, and had a father's heart for the orphans in China. The first time he came back from a visit over there he was bubbling over with enthusiasm for the culture and the people and his experiences and all that God had done with him and through him. I was amazed and convicted that Zach had such tremendous joy in serving the Lord in such a hard region and that he retained that joy upon returning to America, for he took joy from anything and everything.
When Ben hit high school and Zach was a junior, we stopped getting together. Our families went our own separate ways. Life happened. We grew up.
I heard the news on Monday that Zach had passed away the day before.
He was 20.
Today, at the memorial service, we heard many people share stories of what Zach had done, how he had changed their lives, how his passion for Christ and love for others deeply affected them. And, as I thought about it, I realized he had changed my life as well.
Zach was the first person I told when I first wanted to join a swim team. He was the one who encouraged me to try it out. He was the one who took me to the pool and swam laps with me to see how well I did. And, when I went to my first swim meet, Zach was there to show me the ropes and teach me how to do things right.
Now, I'm a coach for my swim team. Each day, I interact with young kids, not unlike the two of us when we were that age, who are eager and ready to swim. I get to hear how their life is going, I get to be God's love to them even if they don't know it. They are my mission field for the time being; they are the ones I am reaching out to right now.
And it's all thanks to Zach.
He changed my life. He changed many others.
If I die tonight, how many people can say that I had a positive effect on their lives? How many can say that I changed their life?
Zach's impact will go on and he will be remembered.
I know I'll never forget my friend.
Goodbye, Zach. I cannot wait to see you again.
His name was Zach.
I met him first when I was ten. We first met as kids having to hang out because our parents were friends and got together frequently. That's how I first got to know Zach and his younger brother, Ben. Then we hung out because our moms became good friends and met each other each and every Monday. Whenever Mom met her friend, she took Olivia and I along. Later on, we hung out because it was something we liked to do.
For three years, we were good friends. Maybe even best friends. He was three years older than I but he was so engaging, so kindly; he never seemed to mind two little girls tagging along after him. But, as we got to know each other, it was Liv and Ben who tagged after us.
We played all sorts of games, jumped on the trampoline, walked to Burger King and felt very grown up. They came over for dinner, we were in Explorer's Club together, we shared the same likes and dislikes. He gave me CDs and I made him watch sentimental movies. (He made me laugh for hours after jumping up in the middle of watching "Peter Pan 2" and shouting, "I BELIEVE IN FAIRIES!") We went kayaking once, even went to the golf course.
Zach had the ability to connect with whomever he met. He could meet someone for the first time and his open, joyful manner had them opening up within minutes. He was kind, hilarious, and had a father's heart for the orphans in China. The first time he came back from a visit over there he was bubbling over with enthusiasm for the culture and the people and his experiences and all that God had done with him and through him. I was amazed and convicted that Zach had such tremendous joy in serving the Lord in such a hard region and that he retained that joy upon returning to America, for he took joy from anything and everything.
When Ben hit high school and Zach was a junior, we stopped getting together. Our families went our own separate ways. Life happened. We grew up.
I heard the news on Monday that Zach had passed away the day before.
He was 20.
Today, at the memorial service, we heard many people share stories of what Zach had done, how he had changed their lives, how his passion for Christ and love for others deeply affected them. And, as I thought about it, I realized he had changed my life as well.
Zach was the first person I told when I first wanted to join a swim team. He was the one who encouraged me to try it out. He was the one who took me to the pool and swam laps with me to see how well I did. And, when I went to my first swim meet, Zach was there to show me the ropes and teach me how to do things right.
Now, I'm a coach for my swim team. Each day, I interact with young kids, not unlike the two of us when we were that age, who are eager and ready to swim. I get to hear how their life is going, I get to be God's love to them even if they don't know it. They are my mission field for the time being; they are the ones I am reaching out to right now.
And it's all thanks to Zach.
He changed my life. He changed many others.
If I die tonight, how many people can say that I had a positive effect on their lives? How many can say that I changed their life?
Zach's impact will go on and he will be remembered.
I know I'll never forget my friend.
Goodbye, Zach. I cannot wait to see you again.
