My Thoughts on the Wreck

Okay, my first couple of posts were just sort of experiments as I became accustomed to blogging. Now I want to begin to really share some of my personal thoughts and feelings. I know that there have been lots of people who have expressed their thoughts and feelings about the Highland wreck, whether in public or private, and my little brother (the budding author...I'm so proud of him) is busily working on a short story about this very topic, but now it is my turn.

I think I have, in a way, a unique point of view on this event. I'm not really in the youth group anymore, so I don't fit into that category, and most of the other university members at Highland have not been there since the 2nd grade, like I have. Highland is, more than any other church probably ever will be, my home, and because it is my home, I, too, have been deeply affected by this tragedy. Anyway, let me start at the beginning....

I was at my parents' house that afternoon when my brother came home from Winterfest with the horrible news. I was, of course, shocked and heartbroken for everyone involved, but the most difficult part of the news for me was knowing that some of "my boys" were in that car. You see, I started baby-sitting when I was twelve years old, and Chris was the first kid I ever baby-sat for. I took care of him on countless Sunday nights while Mike and Diane were at covenant group, and over the years, he became like my own little brother. He and Austin have always been good buddies, so through the years, I had taken care of Austin quite a bit, too. That is why I felt like they were "my boys".

I cried a lot that first week. I cried as I prayed for the families involved, especially those that felt like part of my own. I cried with tears of relief to have my own brother still safe and sound. I cried with tears of sympathy as I grieved with my church family, and I cried more than I ever thought I could cry at a stranger's funeral. Even though I hadn't known Brody personally, I felt like I had after going to visitation and the funeral. One of the things I remember most vividly is peering into his casket at visitation and then running to my mother, sobbing, "He's so small! Mom, he's just so little!" When I was twelve years old, I felt so grown up and mature, but looking at that sweet little boy in his baseball uniform, I realized that twelve is not so big at all. (I know, I know, nineteen is young too...thanks for reminding me, everyone.) I know that compared to the unimaginable glory and splendor that Brody is beholding now in heaven, the years that he missed here on earth are not so important, but for those of us who are still here, it is harder to deal with the death of a child so young. Originally, I hadn't intended to go to the funeral, but I'm so glad I did. It's hard to describe a more touching sight than the 2000+ people that filled Highland's auditorium that sunny afternoon. In a way, it seemed like the whole world was there: men in TXU uniforms there for Bret, many of the faculty from Franklin, almost every member of the Highland family (including all the kids from the wreck who weren't still in the hospital), and of course, who could forget all those sweet little boys in their baseball uniforms? I happened to be sitting right behind the group of singers in the very last row of the auditorium, and so I got to see almost every single person who attended that funeral as they walked by on their way up to the casket. What a blessing it was to behold the presence of the body of Christ that day!

I have so much more that I want to write about, but I've probably already scared a lot of people away from reading any more of my blogs because of how long this post has become. More of my thoughts to come later....