One year ago today, life took a hard turn on me. I lost a close friend. It was unexpected, sudden, and heartbreaking. Up to that day, my friendship circle was amazingly intact. My inner circle, the friends that own part of my heart, and are given part of my life, those critical few that are intrinsic to how life flows day to day, was intact. Sweetly, beautifully, and against all odds, intact. That changed on Jan 6th, 2022. The rhythm is a bit off, the flow is a little less even, and while life and friendship go on, they are inexorably and inexplicably changed.

I’ve struggled with the point of this post, part of me wants to get my emotions out and mourn. Part of me wants to write about death and perspective and how we should be living life with a grateful heart. Part of me wants to rejoice for my friend who knows no pain, no sorrow, no tears.

After countless starts and deletes, I landed on impact. The impact of a life well lived. Not a perfect life, and he would be the first to admit that. Life was never meant to be lived perfectly. Impact does not require perfection, in fact it requires imperfection. A life of impact requires pain and struggle and hope and friendship and loss and openness and joy and being intentional. Impact takes time and effort and sacrifice. It means saying yes and dropping everything to drive over and see a friend in need. It means you give yourself away, you own your mistakes, and you’re brave enough to share them so others can learn. It means you walk humbly. That was how he lived.

Strange how integral someone can be in your life, and while you know it at the time, you can’t really understand it until they’re gone. The sum (impact) of a life is an impossible number for us to arrive at, only the Lord knows how to calculate that. Everyone who knew him, knows what impact in your life feels like. Because you feel its absence. I love you my brother, you lived with impact, and you are missed. Grace and peace.