A startling presence was nudging me.  The persistent nudge eventually led me to act, and an unexpected crossing of two lives from two different generations captivated my soul.  Two lives sharing experiences of darkness unfolded into praise and glory for our savior.

On Saturday, November 21, 2015, I responded to an email from a student who missed an exam earlier in the week.  He told me he missed his exam because he was caring for his sick mother and became sick as well.  He had mentioned earlier in the semester that he was struggling to make it to class because his license had been suspended.   I asked him to stop by my office on Monday to talk about his situation.  I sensed this young man had a deeper story, and he may need more than academic advice.

As we walked to my office together, he asked me if I knew what it was like to have one bad thing happen after another.  I said, “oh yes, I know exactly what you are going through.”  I shut the rest of the world out for a moment and allowed grace to enter the room.  We addressed his class performance and discussed action steps he must take to pass the class.  I then removed my educator hat and exchanged it for a life coach cap.

I thought there may be other circumstances obstructing his studies so I told him I was there to listen.   He told me he tries to do the right things, but bad things just keep happening.  He added that he didn’t know how to cope with death as he explained that a fatherly figure in his life was dying of a disease and given two years to live. He didn’t understand how a person so healthy one day landed on his death bed the next.  He also discussed two friends that he lost in a tragic accident last year.

Sensing his need for hope, I shared my story of my best friend who was tragically killed in an accident.  As I provided context leading up to this tragedy, he asked me what years I attended college because his dad attended too.  When he mentioned his name, I knew it rang with immense familiarity.  Therefore, I stopped and viewed a recent photo of his dad and then concluded it couldn’t possibly be the same guy.

I continued the story of how my best friend stopped by after work because I was hosting a party, and many friends we hadn’t seen during the summer were gathering for a fun evening.  He stayed a short while and said he wasn’t feeling well.  I tried to convince him to stay the night, but he said his dad was expecting him.  He then headed out for some breakfast with some friends before heading home.

 This young man then asked where this happened.  As I answered his question, he blurted out “he was my dad’s roommate and best friend too.”   Yes, his dad was the same guy I knew many years ago at ISUE, and his dad had shared this same story with him. Our best friend crashed his car into a tree on his way home in the early morning hour of June 22, 1985.

11057347_10205816325200626_7101610130046174196_n.jpg

 As tears flooded my eyes and chills ran through my core, I explained how his dad was the one who knocked on my door that dreadful morning over 30 years ago and delivered me the tragic news.  At that moment, within the four walls of my office, I knew God had nudged me to cross over the line and offer this young man grace. 

We both expressed sympathy toward one another’s pain and then talked about how only God could orchestrate this unexpected crossing of our lives.  What started as a young man’s search for coping measures, ended in the joy of me recalling those fun college days before my best friend left this world.

I shared a photo of his dad and our best friend in togas and also wrote down a song, "Just Be Held", for him to listen to in the quiet of his room.  I also recommended that he read God’s word and come by the office again.  This chance encounter bestowed far more blessings upon me than the grace and advice I extended to him. When you are called, extend your hand, cross over the line and love like Jesus.  

By Jeanette Lytle

Comment