Youth Group Deviation

I went to another 19 year old's funeral today

Two 19 year olds' funerals in three years.

Those don't seem to be good odds.

It doesn't feel real when boys die

That young.

He was barely old enough to know

That drugs could be lethal.

"Jordan I forgive you."

His mothers words

From the pulpit.

Brave.

I'm not sure if I could forgive

The person

Who helped to cause my sons death.

"Nehemias we love you"

More words from the microphone.

Family and friends

Reminding his brother,

Over and over again.

That he's so loved.

I wonder

If we had said more of those words earlier,

When they were both still in youth group,

If it would have made a difference.

I thought about that today.

As we sat there.

Me in my senior year at university.

One of the boys in my youth,

The one who had a son at 17,

Sitting to my left.

Our old youth pastor

Sitting in front of me.

One of our youth leaders

And her husband,

Both fresh out of college,

Sitting beside him.

And there in front,

One brother with his two kids

And one brother in a casket.

Our lives are all so different.

Yet, once, we were all so aligned

Playing sand volleyball

In the summers

And doing flips into the pool

On Wednesday nights.

I wish I would've been more aware

Back then

Of how differently our lives could deviate

I wonder

If we had done anything differently,

If maybe the youngest brother

Wouldn't be in a casket today.

12/22/23