Wooden Crosses

(Val) On days like this I wish I'd never gotten out of bed, never turned on my computer, and never answered the phone. There are no more shocking moments than those that bring the news of the passing of a someone we care about. Today is one of those days.

Friendships take on a whole new twist when one works in cyberspace. For the last six years, that is what I have done, and it is something I really enjoy doing. There is a unique relationship that forms between people who use only e-mail and instant messaging for communication. Yes, we miss out on inflection, tone, visual expression, but in some ways, I am convinced that we get to know each other better because we open up a little more in writing our thoughts and feelings instead of speaking them. We maybe give just a little more thought to what we want to say, and have the opportunity to backspace over something we shouldn't say before hitting that "send" button.

There is a downside to this though. Because we use the written word, we have no idea the color of a person's eyes, and as it's been said many times, those eyes are the windows to a person's soul. We can exchange a photograh but it's just not the same. A one-dimensional portrait never really gives us a three dimensional look at the person behind the face. Without ever meeting a person, we never get the privilige of hearing their voice, watching their expression, sharing in their laughter. In other words, we only get to see one side, and for some, it may be the only side they want us to see.

Do we really reveal who we are through what our fingers type on the keyboard? Or do we hide our insecurities, our failures and even our shame because we are afraid of what others might see?

This morning I got word that a co-worker had passed. It came like a bolt out of the blue, and my first thought was that it could not possibly be true. We just "talked" last Thursday, making plans for a teleconference this week. It would be the first time we actually heard each other's voices, and I was looking forward to it. There were exciting things happening in the company, and this person was one of those wonderful people who always lent encouragement and support, someone who seemed excited about what he was doing, despite the challenges and headaches he encountered along the way.

So as I sit here and reflect about life and death and what it all means, there is a part of me that feels as if I didn't earn this grief. After all, we had never met face-to-face so how I can I say that I miss him? But the reality is, I do miss him! I'm still waiting for that little Instant Messenger box to pop up on my window saying that he has signed in. I keep checking that list, hoping to see his little IM picture but instead it's just that faceless red IM icon. When I follow the instructions: "Right click to see ways that you can interact with this person," my options are "Send Email" and "Send Other." Because the only real choice I have now is "Send Other," I send my prayers, prayers for his parents, his two little children, for my co-workers in New York who worked with him every day, and for myself because today I feel cheated. Not only did I lose a friend, but I lost the opportunity to hear him laugh and I will never get that chance again. Even in death, he's still teaching me.

When someone loses their life in a highway accident, a white wooden cross will often mark the spot. Because we worked together on the "information highway," I would like to dedicate my own "cross" in the form of the song below.

Godspeed, Gene. May we never forget the joy you brought into our lives.

Cry Out To Jesus
Words by Mac Powell / Music by Third Day

To everyone who's lost someone they love
Long before it was their time
You feel like the days you had were not enough
when you said goodbye

And to all of the people with burdens and pains
Keeping you back from your life
You believe that there's nothing and there is no one
Who can make it right

There is hope for the helpless
Rest for the weary
Love for the broken heart
There is grace and forgiveness
Mercy and healing
He'll meet you wherever you are
Cry out to Jesus, Cry out to Jesus