Tonight as I sit alone, I am left with memories. Four short days ago (March 28, 2011), this world lost one of the most amazing people I have ever known.
Why? This question has, and continues to, run through my mind. Why? It is only one word, but it means so much. Why/ Of all the people that this world could have lost on that day, why did it have to be him? He had so much to offer this sad dwelling called 'earth,' and loved to offer what he had at every opportunity. Why?
There are so many things that I remember now--indeed, that I cannot banish from my thoughts.
He was kind, and so caring, a friend to me at a time when I had none. He was brilliant, both in mind and in heart. He loved theater, but preferred to work behind the scenes rather than be in the limelight. As a tech, he could work miracles with sound equipment. I recall an incident in October of '08. It was in our church's announcements that our youth group would be hosting a major event called STORM that evening, and he shocked the congregation by suddenly reverberating our unsuspecting youth leader's voice. That very day, I was in the booth with him learning to be a video tech--something of which he taught me everything I know. Although I'm sure that I was never as close to him as he was to me, he would always listen if I needed a listening ear, and offer advice or encouragement. Because of this, he was one of the three that I shared my most personal secret dreams with. He was the first (and until now, only) person with whom I shared my dream of an acting career. To this he replied, "Then someday, I'll see you on Broadway." After I stammered that I doubted I would ever get that far, he said, "If that's your attitudes, I know you never will." This was only one example of the multitudes of times that he taught me to believe in myself. He was quick to give due commendation, but more often than not would shrug off compliments to himself.
As for how caring he was, that was evident to me the first time we ever spoke. I had for weeks known who he was, but never spoken a word. And as I came and sat beside him during the service, crying out my heart because of my sister's upcoming deployment to Iraq, he reached out to me, a total stranger, and offered comfort in a listening ear. But it was not to be for several months that we would really become friends. Nearly four months later, we spoke again at a youth group lock-in. He, another friend, and I spent the entire night getting acquainted with each other better. I have a favorite picture from that night. I've always called it "Coffee and Chat" because we three were standing around chatting, and I was exited because I'd just gotten my coffee.
Is it possible that that night was only four years or less ago? How is it possible?
But in this difficult time, I take great comfort in knowing that his future was secure. He knew where he was going. Death is not the end; it is only the beginning. As John Milton ended his poem "Death Be Not Proud,"
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And Death shall be no more.
Death, thou shalt die!
For those who have trusted Christ, death is but the opening of the door to an eternity of joy beyond measure--the joy of serving Christ in His very presence. It is the end of the overture. The play is about to begin.
Carter Fluekiger, I will miss you on this earth, but I have hope. We will meet again. I do not know why God called you home now, but I know that He cannot make a mistake. Farewell and phileos, my friend.
In the morning when I rise,
In the morning when I rise,
In the morning when I rise,
Give me Jesus.
When I am alone,
When I am alone,
Oh when I am alone,
Give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
Just give me Jesus.
When I come to die,
When I come to die,
When I come to die,
Give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
You can have all this world,
You can have all this world,
Just give me Jesus.
