Valentine's Day Stages of Grief

Denial (02.14.08)
I got the text message between classes. I put down my phone, closed my eyes, and put my head in my hands. Then I picked up the phone again. I reread the message hoping it had changed. Nope. Unfortunately, it didn't.

I went through the motions of the rest of the day. When I got home I read the message again and thought to myself, "this can't be happening." I decided to write my thoughts to make some sense out of them. I was never really close to him. I'm not affected. It's sad that it happened but, well... things like that happen...

Anger (02.15.08)
But even I did not buy my own rationalizations. What happened was wrong. It was senseless and unfair. It should never have happened. I was "angry" because some people were careless and irresponsible. And because of that carelessness and irresponsibility people were hurting.

I talked to some of my students about it. I reminded them of the importance of being responsible. I hated the fact that it could have been avoided if only people were responsible enough. I disccussed it with my friends and I kept on harping about who should be responsible for the tragedy.

Bargaining (02.15.08)
I was in no position to bargain. I looked at the kids and my heart grieved. I prayed, "just let the kids be alright. Let them grow up without resentment."

Depression (02.16.08)
It took all of my effort to drag myself out of bed for my 7 o'clock class on a cold Saturday morning. I didn't want to go to school. I just wanted to stay home until the time that I had to leave for UP for the 8pm service.

I arrived at church just as the worship team started singing "Still". I looked around and saw people I haven't seen in ages--those who moved on to their home churches after studying in UP; those who have been so busy with work that they never found the time to visit; those whose lives have been touched one way or another...

Acceptance (02.16.08)
A former UPCYMian: Most of us are from the province. When we came to UP we had no family and this church became our family. PK was not just our pastor, he was like a father to us.

A mother: PK was intrumental in my sons' spiritual journeys--when they received Jesus Christ into their lives PK played a big part.

A Bible study leader: PK's sermons had depth... I found myself asking my wife for a pen so I could write down his insights.

"Let us stop asking ourselves, 'why?' instead let us ask, 'what next?' Those of us whose lives have been touched by PK and Tita Belle, let us make our lives count so that they would not have died in vain."

That night my tears flowed freely. The tears that did not come when I read the text message nor when I prayed for the kids came in a steady stream. I cried not because I was grieving for their deaths. I cried because I saw the legacy they have made. A legacy that will live on for generations.

I cried with holy envy. These were lives offered to Jesus. There is a loss, yes, but there should be no regrets. People were nurtured in the faith. Jesus, I want the same legacy. I want to live for you so passionately that the people around me will know you and will love you and live for you.

Yes, it's going to be okay. Because the kernel has fallen and died and so it has produced many seeds (John 12:24). God, thank you for the privilege of knowing PK and Tita Belle.

*Pastor and wife killed in Valentine road mishap