Today has been a hard day for my family. It's the one year anniversary of the death of Ryan Kendall, the baby boy our home group had basically adopted and loved. He was born the Saturday before Easter last year and died of complications related to one of his birth defects just a few short months later. His mom has been changed forever by that little guy and we all miss him terribly. It was probably the hardest on my wife, whose arms ached for weeks afterward, longing to hold that little baby boy.

Tonight, my wife was tucking in the kids and she was reminding them that they needed to help clean tomorrow and to be servant-minded. My 10 year-old daughter asked if there were any scriptures about serving and my wife looked but couldn't find any, so they prayed. Immediately, my son had a scripture reference come to mind. Karen found it and it turned out to be the scripture Karen had read about Ryan the day he died. The name Ryan means king. So they started talking about Ryan and Savannah, my son's friend that died in November. Tears began to flow and Karen told my son that it was okay to cry. He turned and asked, "Mom? Could you tell dad I need him right away?"

I came up and we talked and cried together, while Karen comforted my daughter about Ryan. My son told me that Savannah was his "best friend that was a girl." I told him later that he would always have a Savannah-shaped hole in his heart for her. He then told me that she was about 1/4 of his heart all the time. He knows his fractions so he knows what he's saying. He wishes he could go back to the place where they camped last September, to walk the trails that they explored together and "feel the crunch under [his] feet." More than anything, he just wants more time with her because he misses her so badly.

As his father, I want so much to take the pain of it all and make it go away. Like he told me, "6 year-olds shouldn't die." Yes, and 6 year-olds shouldn't have to mourn the death of a friend. Talking about heaven isn't all that comforting when he misses her like this, because he knows that he has to wait the rest of his life before he sees her again, and for a 6 year-old -- now 7 -- that's an eternity.

The good news is the beattitude, "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." I was there for my son tonight, being the hands and arms of the Father, and likewise Karen for her daughter. God knew that there was some comfort needed tonight and that's why He led them to the scripture before we said goodnight to them in their beds. It was an ordinary time for an extraordinary moment.

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