just a space

"Nick, is it still cool if me and the kids come?"
"Absolutely brother, come on down."
"Ok, thanks."

He'd been telling me for months that he was going to come. Saying he needed it, it would be good for the kids, he needed it. In one week his life had flown into a whirl-wind. His grandpa...the one who basically raised him, the one who let him, his wife and his kids live with him for such a long time, the one he looked to the most had died. i was there the night before his grandpa died. i could see the pain on his face, the pleading eyes for some sign that his grandpa could hear him. i could see in his eyes as I shared of the hope we possess something that begged to know the truth of that, to know in the midst of this pain and uncertainty that this isn't it...

...same week...

she just didn't love him anymore. At least that is what she told him. she's leaving. and here he stands, 25 years old, 3 kids, 2 by his wife and one his wife had before him...and somehow, some way he needs to hold it together. he didn't want his kids to see him like this, hed tell me as we stood in my front yard, his 200+ body crumbling as i hugged him.

so when he came, when he finally came over to share a burger and a Word...i was hopeful for a moment that we could provide a space in our backyard that was holy, that was peaceful...that was what he needed. a space where healing could begin. his kids played and ate. he relaxed, ate and laughed. and as the kids sat and listened to a story he sat with my wife, and she did what she does, gave him that space. he opened up to her and as the story wrapped up, he hurried to the side yard so his kids couldn't see his vulnerability, his fragility. we sent the kiddos inside to Find Nemo, and we settled into a study of the Holy Spirit. and again, the space was made...as we came to a close he opened up to all of us around that table and broke down, cried...done something he knew he needed to do, but didn't know who to tell. we listened, we offered words of sympathy and empathy, words of hope and of promises uttered by One greater than us. we prayed.

he left that night with his kids to see the Starlight parade, and when he didn't thankfulness was written all over his face. clearly the journey is not over, but it was clear he was thankful to know he didn't have to go it alone...