I mean, really, what does one say when a friend dies? How does one even begin to communicate to others how it affects you, or what kind of person they were/are, and how big of a hole they leave?
Preston Vorhauer passed from this world into the arms of his Beloved on Saturday, September 1st. When I heard it, my heart dropped. My world was rocked. If not for the strength of Jesus and His comfort, I would have fallen apart. I watched as my family and my friends around me absorbed the news. Reactions went from disbelief to horror to grief. So many of us knew Preston well and loved him as the amazing brother in Christ that he was.
I was immediately strengthened by the knowledge that Preston knew and adored Jesus Christ and was now far happier and safer. He was resting in His arms, worshiping at His feet, and reveling in the presence of his King, and still is. For eternity. I'm almost envious.
This, I believe was his greatest defining attribute. Preston loved Jesus and lived his life for him. I think of this every day and smile. It comforts me to know that this event, no matter how hard for those of us left behind, is truly one of joy. And when it seems to hit me afresh that he is gone from this earth, I run to Jesus. He comforts me again and again, even as the tears fall and my heart grows heavy. And I am reminded always that my pain and sorrow is only a brief shadow of what his family and really close friends are going through. It reminds me to pray for them.
On that Saturday, even as I grieved images, memories and thoughts kept coming to me; memories of Preston, all of them good. So, I wrote them down.
His tear stained face in church when he was brought before the throne of God. His wild red hair and the way he used to braid his beard. Watching him play bass guitar and drums on the worship team, how he truly worshiped. How crazy good he was at accents (especially Russian and Irish). The way his hair stuck out of his football helmet, always making him stand out on the field. His kindness in always genuinely asking how I am and really listening to the answer. How he liked horses but horses don't like him. How he and his friend/brother, Dale, goofed around. And how you could always tell it was him coming down the road in that red pickup with the huge whip antenna. I will always remember these things and treasure the memory of his life.
Even though thoughts try to sneak in that say, "why would God take such a young, promising life? How is this even fair? Why him?", I push them away, choosing to trust my God. No matter how hard it is. God is always in control, he knows exactly what He is doing. So I choose to trust that Preston's days were full. That his life was leveraged to the fullest extent for God's glory. Even though we down here will always miss him, let his life be an example that to live for God is to truly live.
I miss you, Preston. Emmanuel, I trust him to your care... forever.
Victoria,
ReplyDeleteI can't tell you how this post has made me think about the life Christ gives each one of us. Looking back to last Saturday when I called you and heard that Preston had died, I was shocked at first. Later before bed I was feeling sorry for his family and praying for them but at the same time very confused why God would take such a "soldier" someone who could have done so much for Him. After reading your post it had made me think about the "full" life you said Preston had. Right now I can say I understand so much better what it truly means to trust God and his decisions. So think you for this post!
Josie