When the
Children of Israel crossed the Jordan River, they were instructed to take
twelve stones from their new land (Joshua 4:9) and place them in the middle
of the river. The stones were to be
placed where the feet of the priests stood as they held the Ark of the Covenant
while the Tribes crossed over to the Promised Land.
They were also instructed (Joshua 4:1-8) to bring twelve stones out of the Jordan and place them in the new land – at Gilgal - as an altar. This was so they would not forget where they had come from and all they had experienced as they entered the Promised Land.
They were also instructed (Joshua 4:1-8) to bring twelve stones out of the Jordan and place them in the new land – at Gilgal - as an altar. This was so they would not forget where they had come from and all they had experienced as they entered the Promised Land.
This ceremony
was God’s way of helping them remember; thus it became a memorial. God told them that the stones would make their children ask their fathers in time to come, "What do these stones mean?" They would be able to answer them and tell them how God took them through the Red Sea at the beginning of their journey and through the Jordan River at the end - on dry ground. The stones were to be their memorial.
Scripture says those stones placed in the Jordan River are still there
to this day. Sometimes I wonder just
where in that river those stones were placed because I’d love to see that pile
of stones after all these years!
During their
forty years’ journey through the wilderness, the Children of Israel faced many
trials and tests. They experienced God’s
might and His miracles. They buried
loved ones in the wilderness and in the desert. Marriages were performed, and babies were born. And they lived with a pillar of fire at
night and a cloud by day to lead the way.
They left many
things behind as they crossed over Jordan; they also had many new experiences
to encounter. So placing twelve stones
(one for each tribe) on the other side of the Jordan was a way to remember all
of that.
I think it’s a
good idea to have memorials so that we don't forget our past. It’s a good thing to have memorials so we can
look back and realize how far we’ve come (or how much farther we have to go). We did that on
Saturday, June 14, 2014.
For the third year,
siblings, sons, nieces and nephews, cousins,
and friends have revved their bikes, put on their helmets, and headed north to visit the places where angels met our loved
ones. A memorial helps people reminisce
and remember. And that we did. The grief
is not as rampant as it once was, but visiting those places brings back
memories – and tears. It also brings healing.
In October 1998
Paul Slabach left the office of the church he was pastoring in Lyndhurst,
Virginia and headed home to his pregnant wife and three children. He never made it. A fire truck heading up the mountain with one
last load of water for a forest fire lost control around a curve and hit Paul
head-on. Before he could be airlifted to
UVA, he was gone. Three months after
Paul’s death, his widow Regina birthed their child by emergency C-section and a
few weeks later was airlifted to UVA because of post-eclamptic seizures. In the ensuing sixteen years, Regina married Myron Brubaker, and she and Myron are raising her (and his adopted) children. Myron and Regina and their children are all a part of the Slabach family – and always will be. Their children are growing up and getting ready to move out on their own. Their oldest son has graduated from college, the second son will finish in a year, a daughter begins college this fall, and the unborn son at Paul’s death will be a high school sophomore this fall. Paul was thirty-eight when he was called Home. We have not forgotten him. We miss him still. And we will always wonder what life would be like had he not died when he did.
In December of
2011 Jerrel Good, his wife Joyce,
and their youngest of seven children were traveling the back roads on their way to a
meeting in Stuarts Draft, Virginia.
Coming around a curve on Rt.151,
they were hit head-on by a young man on his way home from work. The man, a diabetic, either fell asleep or
had low blood sugar; he does not remember what happened. He suffered a crushed heel and other
injuries. Jerrel’s Jetta was pushed off
the road and came to rest at the edge of an embankment. In the darkness, Joyce came to after a few
moments of unconsciousness. Jerrel was
unresponsive, so she picked up her phone,
which just happened to be within
reach, and called her oldest son, a nurse.
“We’ve been in an accident,” she told him. “Your father is not responding. It’s bad.” It was bad all right. Yet in those moments, Joyce saw a light and felt
a Presence and a sense of peace and calm in the vehicle as she waited for help
to arrive. Little Tabi, only three,
related to folks later, “The angels just came,” and she demonstrated by raising
her hands in the air, “and took my daddy to Heaven.” Jerrel was forty-eight.
Paul was Dave’s
brother, and Jerrel was his
cousin. Paul was one of Dave’s greatest
supporters and his friend. Jerrel and
Dave were friends and camping buddies and planned to grow old together. They had a lot of things they were going to
do when they got old – things they didn’t have time to do now. They didn’t get that chance to grow old and
do those things together.
In June of 2011
Dave and Jerrel and their boys spent a Saturday on a bike trip. They didn’t have an agenda; they just wanted
to ride with their boys, so they did.
And they decided they’d start a tradition: every year on Father’s Day
weekend, they’d do a father/son bike trip on Saturday. Six months later to the day, Jerrel went to
Heaven.
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| Brothers of Paul and Jerrel, their nieces and nephews and Jerrel's four sons on the ride in 2013. |
Come June, there
was still a bike trip because Jerrel’s sons wanted to continue the ride. Jerrel’s sons, brother, his cousins, and their sons and daughters joined the
ride. In memory of both Jerrel and Paul,
the bike ride was completed. Each year,
more people have come, and more
bikes participate. Anyone who knew Paul
or Jerrel is welcome to participate.
And they ride –
not to memorialize Paul and Jerrel, but to remember the goodness of God and the
blessings of lives well-lived and well-loved.
While the grief from losing Paul is not as painful as it once was, the
grief from losing Jerrel is still strong.
In the two and a half years since Jerrel’s death, his family has experienced many changes. Joyce’s daughter gave her a grandson – and then later buried a stillborn granddaughter. One son has gotten married; another one recently announced his engagement. A third son completed aviation mechanic training and is living in Canada. Joyce is taking classes toward a nursing degree and has a part-time job. It seems that Jerrel has missed so much in the short time he’s been gone.
Questions asked
are not always answered. But this we
know: God gives strength and courage to
go on, even when life is unbearably hard.
God provides resources and people to help carry the load. Riding up the mountains and around the curves
reminds us of how far we’ve come since these tragedies have ripped us
apart.
Having the gentleman who hit Jerrel’s Jetta along on the ride the past two years has been both difficult and special. Standing at the site where Jerrel lost his life, he shared his journey following the accident he caused that claimed this father’s life. There were many tears – not just his, but ours as well. It has been poignant and painful – and healing. In our grief, there is healing when we reckon that we’ll never understand this side of Heaven, but we know that God does all things well.
Having the gentleman who hit Jerrel’s Jetta along on the ride the past two years has been both difficult and special. Standing at the site where Jerrel lost his life, he shared his journey following the accident he caused that claimed this father’s life. There were many tears – not just his, but ours as well. It has been poignant and painful – and healing. In our grief, there is healing when we reckon that we’ll never understand this side of Heaven, but we know that God does all things well.
So we carry our
stones out of our deep waters and place them on the ground for others to see
and for us to remember. They help us remember how He was there in those dark days
and nights when we cried, “Why?” and there was no answer.
There are many
different ways to remember loved ones.
For this extended family, it makes sense to do a motorcycle ride. Paul and Jerrel both loved to ride. The plan for an annual ride had been made
before Jerrel’s death, and his boys
wanted to continue the tradition after he died.
 |
| the place where Paul met Jesus on October 27, 1998 |
One person
shared with Dave this year, “Thanks so much for doing this. I was not prepared for the emotion that would hit me when I visited Paul’s grave. I hadn’t been
there for probably ten years, but Paul was my best friend. It was so good to be here today.”
Standing in the
front yard of the place where Paul met Jesus, we remembered the faithfulness of
God. Having Regina standing there with
us, affirming the faithfulness of God is like placing another stone on the
altar – so that we do not forget how good (in spite of the tragedy) God has
been.
 | |
| the store across the road from the place Jerrel met Jesus on December 15, 2011 |
 | |
On the white paint are the words, "I
U Tabi", written by that little girl.
Each year, the
group is different. This year was the
first that all of Paul’s brothers participated.
One of Jerrel’s sons is in Canada,
and this was his first year to miss the ride.
Cousins travel in to participate, and others wish they could. Co-workers join the ride, remembering a
fellow worker.
We ride, not as
those who have no hope. We ride because
we have a reason to celebrate. One day,
we will be together. For now, we ride
and we remember. God has been good, and
we never want to forget.Regina chose to have the words "God is good all the time - even now." put on the marque of the church over the time of Paul's funeral. This poem was written following that theme.
Even Now, Even Now, God is Good
Though my
questions are unanswered and I’ve cried with no relief;
Though there
is no human logic and I’m torn by fresh, new grief;
Though the
voice of God is silent, I will not doubt; I still believe:
Even now, even now God is good.
God is good all
the time, and all the time God is good.
Even now?!
Even now God is good.
He is my
Lord, He is my Shepherd; in Him there’s nothing that I lack,
Though one
I’ve loved is gone and is never coming back;
Though the
darkness may surround me, I know God knows what He’s about.
Even now, even now God is good.
Though the
night is dark about me, I can’t see the light of day;
Though my
heart is crushed within me, and it hurts too much to pray.
Yet I feel
His arms around me, and I will not be afraid.
Even now, even now God is good.
God is good all
the time, and all the time God is good.
Even now?!
Even now God is good.
Even now God is good.
I can claim
the peace of Jesus; I’m hiding ’neath His wings,
And the
Victory of my Savior gives me the power to sing.
Though I
don’t understand His reasons, He’s still my King of kings.
Even now, even now God is good.
Though the
waters would o’er take me, He’s my rest, He is my calm;
Though the
fire would consume me, He’s my strength, He is my balm.
I still believe
that He is faithful in this darkness before dawn.
Even now, even now God is good.
God is good all
the time, and all the time God is good.
Even now?!
Even now God is good.
Even now God is good.
Gertrude
Slabach
November
1998
written after the Homegoing of Paul Slabach
