The message at church this week was part two of a three-week series on “Dangerous Prayers”; The focus was, ‘Break Me’ – Praying to be broken. Knowing what it is to be broken, I found this discussion to be very interesting to see how others interpret it. The concept of asking that your spirit be broken enough to realize how much God is needed in your life was not new to me.

After the service on our way to St Joseph for the weekly Sunday visit with Suzanne’s dad, I shared with her the point in my life where I was broken. It wasn’t on the drive home from Chicago with Cindy when she commented that she was “coming home to die”; It wasn’t the moment I walked into the hospital room to see my mom for the first time after her terminal diagnosis; nor the moment we pulled into Amity Cemetary to put Gene in the ground; leaving my dad for the last time we ever spoke to one another; or 296 days ago when the word cancer was spoken. Although any one of these events in someone’s life could break them, they weren’t mine. For me, it was the moment, hours, and days after I got the call that my precious daughter Cassandra had been killed in a vehicle accident. That’s what broke me.

Just thirty-one, life was going great for this father of two, learning a new profession and just purchasing my forever home. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, everything crashed around me and the questions that flooded my mind were never-ending. How could this happen to such an innocent soul? Why would God take her from me? How will I survive the heartache I feel? Could life ever be normal again?

At that point in my life, I wasn’t a devoted religious man. Basically, I was following the lead of my wife to attend church and how to raise our children. Who knew that being broken like that was in the plan, not my plan but the plan of the one in charge. Although I was fortunate to have a warning of what was to occur, I was still left with a broken spirit .

It was the process of rebuilding that broken spirit that prepared me for the life that was ahead of me. Dealing with the death of a loved one is a challenge that everyone faces, but being able to use that event to better serve others is what I have tried to do. Being the best parent and spouse I could be; Working within the community to strive for better Economic Development; teaching Sunday School to share my wisdom; Serving on the School Board to ensure its longevity; organizing a Foundation for the betterment of our school system. All of these efforts and many more have been my way of living by service in honor of others.

I’m not broken anymore, well not in the sense the at the sermon discussed. My heart is still broken for all those that my life has been touched by. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t miss them as I have been blessed to be a part of their lives. And because of that, I have developed a ritual that Suzanne was the first to catch on to. Whenever I pass by a casket, to honor someone who has joined those I miss so much, I give the casket tap, usually three times, just to acknowledge that the deceased is joining a pretty good group of people.

For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.

Romans 14:8