I will follow you

I wake up this morning and do a wonderful devotion. I am preparing for a mission trip and reviewing my to do list. My son and I head out to the mall in search of a new piece of luggage to carry some things.

In the midst of the drive, we have a discussion about rules and expectations and he comments about his privacy and the fact that he is almost eighteen. The discussion leads to the basic question "will you still monitor my social networks when I am in college?" I simply replied "Son, we are not promised tomorrow...I will worry about that when the day comes."

I quickly discovered how true my words were as I received a call advising me that a dear friend had lost his life. He was not just any friend, he was my dear friend. A protector, a guide, a confidant. He was a fellow officer that worked with me in a dark, out of control world. A friend that knew my ins and outs. A true, loyal friend that would fight to the death in order to protect his own.

He was a man that loved his wife and adored his children. He lived a life of love and truth and he honored the uniform he wore. We went through many doors together and came through many trials. We spent many endless hours just "waiting" for something to happen and when it did, he was at the heart of it. He was an honorable man...a man I loved and respected.

As I heard the news, I grieved. He was not killed as one would expect in the world of law enforcement, he was killed in a tragic accident. He is the second of that squad that I have lost. The first was my dear friend Vonda Higgins.

My heart is heavy as I realize that in all probability I will miss his funeral. I grieve some more and am burdened that I can not change that. If I had only one more chance to say something...what would I say? "I respect you, you were the best we had, you are a dear friend?" If I had one more chance, I would probably say thank you for giving your all to a place you served with a passion, thank you for all the endless hours, thank you for being an example, a loving husband, a gracious friend and a loyal man.

As I dwell on missing the funeral I go back to Matthew 8. The title of the middle of that chapter is "The Cost of Following Jesus." Jesus calls for followers and one says "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." [v21]

I must go and do the will of God and share the news of Jesus to others. Difficult as it may be, I know he would want it that way. I know where my friend is and I rejoice in the fact that I will see him once again.

When Jesus saw the crowd around him, he gave orders to cross to the other side of the lake. Then a teacher of the law came to him and said "Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go." Another disciple said to him, "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." But Jesus told him, "Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead." Matthew 8: 18-19; 21-22

In Memory of William Nicholas Tomlinson