My brother-in-law, Brandon James, had a 22-year-old brother who was killed in a car accident on that Wednesday night. We ended up going to Aabama for a week instead of Indiana. It was such a tragedy, and I don't think I've witnessed anyone grieve so deeply as the James family was and has been. An event like that brings everything in perspective in a powerful way. Things that seem so important suddenly lose their significance. I have felt a deeper need to pray and ready myself for eternity and also to make sure I'm preparing my children. Life is truly so short, and tomorrow is not a guarantee.
One bright moment that I don't believe I'll ever forget occurred the day of the funeral. The grave side service was over, and folks had walked next door to the fellowship hall where a meal was prepared. Brandon and Bryan's mom, Brenda, went into the church and sat down in a recliner. She was crying, mumbling, and her eyes were closed. Her sisters were gathered around her. I had gone into the church with my kids instead of the fellowship hall because of the heat and the crowds. I felt a little bit like an intruder when Brenda came in, although the family assured me we were fine. Before I could gather my things to leave, Phillip picked up Avery and took him over to Brenda. He spoke to her and she opened her eyes. When she saw Avery, her eyes lit up a little. She has always loved kids, but she has prayed a lot of prayers for Avery over the last few years. As Avery watched her talk to him, he started to giggle in the way that only he can do. The light in her eyes grew, and she started to smile and clap her hands and sing a little song. Avery laughed even harder. Brenda said, "I never thought I'd laugh again, and here I am doing it. My heart hasn't felt like this in days." They continued to play together for several minutes until Phillip took Avery away. At that point, Brenda seemed to have gained some strength.
As I sat and watched their interaction, I thought about how inappropriate it would be for just about anyone else to be giggling and clapping in such a situation. But Avery doesn't know sadness or grief. He does know joy though. I couldn't help but tear up as I watched Avery bring joy to someone who was hurting in the worst way. She kept saying, "You're such a miracle!" and "I've prayed so many prayers for you!" His joy spread to her, and she received strength in the process. At that moment, I was so thankful for my little Avery and the things he CAN''T do, and the one thing he CAN do so well: bring joy.
We're home and gearing up for more travels. I'll update as time allows!
