Ten years ago, William died in a drowing accident. He was a precious brother, one of our lay staff, and only 25 when he died. That day, I learned a new shade of meaning to the word “drown.” I realized that if you really resist it, you can drive a mental wedge between the word “drown” and the word “dead.” He might have drowned, but he’s still alive, I insisted during the long drive up to Shasta to comfort the students who had been with William. They had all been huddled away, crying and confused, to a nearby Christian camp. What I said to them, how I received the parents at the small airport near Shasta where I picked them up to go to the morgue to view the body that had just been recovered by the divers, what words of condolence and apology I muttered to them, what messages I gave back at church to an auditorium full of weeping, and bewildered people … it’s all really a blur. I don’t think there has been a stretch of 10 days in the past 10 years when I did not have some sharp, painful thought of William and his death, if only because every time some group goes on a trip to the mountains or to the oceans, pangs of pain and panic strike me.

I loved William dearly. I was intensely proud of him as a young man who had changed and matured in the Lord so much since his undergrad days. He had a huge impact on the younger men he led at our church, and an even greater impact through his death, as we all vowed to live out our commitment to the Lord with double measure of zeal to make up for what William would have wanted to do.

As people usually say of such periods, I don’t know how I got through that time. My wife, Kelly, recounted recently at our Gracepoint Monthly some of the ways God sustained us during that time. Here are some excerpts from her sharing.

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I want to share with you how God carried me during one of the most difficult times of my life. Exactly 10 years ago, William Lee died in a drowning accident on July 4th. I still remember getting a page that William drowned. “What do you mean he drowned? This must be a mistake. I just saw him two days ago leaving from the San Leandro parking lot with the rest of his group to Mount Shasta. How could this be?” That day started with a nice breakfast with a group of guys at my house and now my life was falling apart before my eyes.

We alerted the entire church and we all gathered at the church building, just crying out to God to do a miracle, and bring him back to life. I was still not giving up the idea that William is alive. I just cried out to God. I didn’t know what else to do. Ed drove up with Tony and others to Mount Shasta to get the body as well as to minister to the group who went up with him. We contacted his brother and his parents and they flew up the next morning. The parents were angry at us and the church. I didn’t know what else to do but to apologize to them. Although I was not responsible for his death, I felt so sorry to them. And then there were some who said that he died because of our arrogance and therefore we should repent. I regretted the day when we committed to go into full time ministry. I just wanted to die.

The days ensuing were like a long nightmare. I still could not accept the fact that William was dead. I had so many regrets. I felt the world was so unsafe. I felt so dark thinking that I could not protect anyone that I love from death. DEATH was so cruel. I looked at everyone that I love in my life – my husband, my children, my friends, the people in this church, etc. I was overcome with sadness that there isn’t anything I can do to protect them from death as death can suddenly take them away from my life and that they will be no more... continue reading