Broken Through Loss

Craig’s post from yesterday, August 14, hits close to home today.  Currently, I am on a flight from Tampa, Florida in route to Houston, then onto Sacramento.   I arrived in Florida yesterday and I am on my way home.  I don’t make it a habit of traveling coast to coast for a few hours.  But this is different.   Tonight, high above the Gulf of Mexico at 40,000 feet, I am low.  I am hurting; I am broken through loss.

Sure I am hopeful, but rarely has the statement, “Jesus Loves the Broken” ever been more applicable to me than now.  Let me explain.

January 14, 1993:  I was a new believer only two months into this new God thing.  I had just heard an incredible speaker communicate Hope like I had never heard.  Roosevelt Hunter was a 30 year old traveling speaker who had convinced me in his 25 minute presentation that I could change the world.  Not just me, every one there believed the best was ahead of them.  I was asked to drive him to his hotel.  I later learned I was set up.  The hosting pastor has seen me respond to the message and felt like this was a moment where I could get a few minutes to talk to Roe and glean some more motivation.  It worked.

When I pulled into the hotel, we sat and talked about why I had been so fearful of giving my heart completely to the Love of God.  I told him I thought God was mad at me.  He said, “God is not mad at you.  He is mad about you.”  I learned later this was one of his life mottos.   We talked till the early morning and I knew I met a life long mentor. 

Three years later he was the best man at my wedding.  He and his wife hosted me on numerous trips to Louisiana where they lived.  On those trips, I would listen to his words of challenge.  I watched his compassion for humanity.  I learned from his communication.  Roosevelt was a world changer.  He taught me to study and love scripture; how to look at it as if I was sitting there when it was written.  A few years ago he moved to Florida to join the staff of Southeastern University.  We didn’t connect enough living on opposite coasts.  I would call.  He would text.  We would laugh and keep each other’s vision, goals, and dreams stirred. 

Last July, I was stunned to hear he was battling an advanced form of colon cancer.  For more than a decade he had showed me how to live as a champion by trusting Christ.  Now with his diagnosis, he was showing me how a to die as a champion still trusting.

Monday, August 10, 2009:  My cell buzzed.  I was stoked to see an inbox text from “ROE,” as his name appears in my cell.  I couldn’t wait to tell him that the advanced copy of Jesus Loves You This I Know had arrived and in days I would be forwarding it on to Florida.  As I clicked to open the text, my heart sank.  Eileen, Roe’s wife, had used his phone to text his friends of tradgedy. 

Her text read:

“Roosevelt is in Heaven.  I am at peace.You r among the first to know.  Rho has a special place in his heart for you. Will give details later. Love Eileen”

Heroes are not supposed to die.  My mind flashed to so many times we had shared.  I thought of his last visit to my house.  My kids and I, along with Roe, headed to the local store.  We giggled at how people looked funny at us when my kids were calling a black man “Uncle Roe.”  We laughed so hard.  He was family.  He was my brother from another mother.  Now he is in heaven. 

August 15, 2009:  Sitting on this packed plane, I feel alone.  That’s what death does.  It isolates.  But life, draws people into connection through comfort.  When I am hurting I want to be around those I love.  The scripture says it clearly, “Jesus comforts those than mourn.”  That is what I need right now.  Jesus Loves the Broken.  He loves me.

Somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico,
Roe’s friend, Jason

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