In Memory of Ryan: How's my pace, God?

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing." 2 Timothy 4:7-8

Today I went to the funeral of someone I did not know well. I left wishing I had known him better, but more than that, I left wanting to love God even more.

Not the type of love that screams for attention and boasts, "Hey, everyone, I know God." But the love that resonates through the tears, laughter and memories of those who know you best. A legacy of love. That's what I want to leave! 

Leaving the funeral, a friend of mine said, "You find out what type of person you were at your funeral." And I had to wonder if Ryan knew the impact he had. Probably not, who ever does? I was not a close friend of his. In fact, we were probably more of acquaintances-- we had shared a meal together on a church young adult camping trip last year and hung out in a group with mutual friends once or twice, but yet, I knew he was an incredible man of character, gentleness and faith. What I remember most were his eyes. I remember seeing genuine care, love and respect. I remember seeing Jesus there.

Talking to a close friend of Ryan's, she said, "I am so glad God has a plan." And seeing the turn out at the celebration of his life, I believe strongly that God will use his death in the powerful way to impact the lives of many young people. Ryan was teacher. I would venture to say that a third of the people at the funeral were students of his at one point. He was loved by these kids and genuine mourning happened after his fatal accident in the hallways of the schools of which he had an impact in-- both through teaching and substituting.

Something about a funeral forces one to reflect upon their own approaching death. I say approaching because we cannot escape it. Death is reality, and though God never intended for us to have to face death, we can be joyful it no longer hold any power over us (IF we have chosen to run after and know Jesus). It's interesting, upon seeing Ryan's own words written in the funeral bulletin ("I am ready to go"), someone said, "That's depressing." Since then I've thought about it and come to this conclusion: It's actually not. I rejoice that Ryan knew exactly where he was going when he died-- even though it came sooner than he or anyone else expected. I am thankful that his family doesn't need to question where his loyalty lay-- they know he is in the arms of Jesus. 

So, even though I did not really know this man of God, I am forced to ask myself: What is my legacy? Do people see Jesus in MY eyes? in MY smile? in MY character? Will the people I have fought to impact come to MY funeral? Was I just another nice person? or was I someone that people knew loved Jesus with everything that she had?

Ryan was 32. While he had a few years on me, it's bizarre to think that at any time, God could chose to take me to live with Jesus. In the arrogance of our youth, we tend to think we are invisible. Not so today. I think the death of a young person humbles the rest of us young people to realize that life is short and eternity is forever. I feel Jesus whispering to me, "Well, Jennifer? How are you going to live today?" 

Being involved in a church where the youth and young adults are so tightly knit, I feel as if we lost a member of our family today. I understand what it means when it says in Corinthians 12:26, "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it." I suffer for my friends who knew him better than I did. Being a part of the universal church, I suffer for his family. And yet, I have joy in the way we can pull together, support each other and learn from Ryan's example.

The verse repeated over and over at the funeral was 2 Timothy 4:7-8: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race..." Ryan's race is over. If honest, I am a little jealous that he is face to face with Jesus right now and I am not :). However, my fight is not over. I have opponents to face and matches to win. My finish line is unseen, not quite here, yet inevitable. While I may not be the strongest, fastest or the most graceful runner, I want to finish with strength and perseverance that is done solely for my heavenly father. And hopefully, by running for my precious Jesus, I can convince those on the sidelines to come and run along beside me. "How is my pace, God?"

"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain..." Philippians 1:21