“I ache, O Lord, with a new sadness rooted deep in the soil of my existence…
How can I ever make an accounting of what has been lost, except to say that it weaves through all my days, as far back as I can remember? For I have lost one of my closest fellow travelers, one who journeyed with me through so many stations along this temporal track…
It was an honor to love and know, and to be known and loved by, my brother. And it is an honor now to grieve for them, for the depth of this pain is the same as the depth of our bond. My grief is a facet of the joy that was, and a forerunner of the joy yet to come…”
Every Moment Holy, Vol II, Death, Grief, and Hope
He was affectionately known as “Atkins” by those closest to him. We always called him Atkins because my younger brother’s name is Jonathan, so when Atkins came to live with us, we didn’t want to confuse the two Jonathans! Even though my younger brother has always gone by “JJ”, the name Atkins stuck for my older adopted brother and that was that.
Last Thursday, January 25th, marked 11 years since my older brother passed away. This is the first time I have been able to write about it publically. My mind is filled with thoughts and memories, not knowing where to begin sharing the things on my heart and mind. So instead, this is a letter to him about all the things that have changed in my life over these last 11 years.
Bro,
I have to start by saying that even after 11 years I still miss you very deeply. I can’t believe you’ve been gone for that long. It seems like only yesterday you were coming to live with our family. We used to spend most of our free time at your house. Shortly after your dad passed, the one time I invited you over for a sleepover you ended up staying for 12 years; you probably should have gotten a world record for longest sleepover.
The grief comes and goes, and some years are easier and some are harder. Like the changing of the seasons I know that even though there are moments of winter and heartache in missing you, there is always a Spring where everything is renewed and made new again and I reflect on the joys of the time God allowed us to have together. Most days God graces me with some type of reminder of our days here together on earth. But I know you are in a better place. You have that new body we always talked about, and everything has been made new for you! You can’t use that chest scar from heart surgery to your advantage anymore :).
There’s so much I haven’t been able to say this last decade and so much weight I’ve carried around. I need to say “I’m sorry.” We made a promise to each other that we would take care of each other’s families if something happened to one of us, and there was a period of time that I did not keep my word. After being released from incarceration a few months after your funeral, things got better for a bit. I was trying to grow in my new salvation but I was not experiencing discipleship and I still struggled with some life dominating sins that I still wasn’t ready to give up. I continued to make sinful choices and I did not look out for Ami. I missed her wedding to David because I was back in jail and I wasn’t able to stand there and celebrate that day with them. I’ve carried that weight around with me for a long time and I know if you were here, you would forgive me. And now, I am now releasing that to God.
After I was released from incarceration, I taught myself to play guitar. I was helping a small church with their worship but had not completely given up some certain sins. Those sins led to the divorce. So, for the past 7-8 years I didn’t pick up my guitar to play. I felt like a hypocrite. How could I ever pick up my guitar again and play and worship Jesus when I had been living a lie?
Music and playing guitar was healing for me but I felt like the biggest part of my healing I had to keep at arm's length from God. That I still needed to clean up those sins before Jesus would accept my offering of worship. In 2018, after moving back to South Carolina, I thought I was part of a church that would help in that healing. I was excited that I might be able to play again, but this church was focused on performance before using a gift to honor God which furthered my struggle to heal. But finally, I realized within the past year or so, my struggle with wanting others' approval determined my thoughts of God. Now I am focusing on letting God’s approval and acceptance of me be my true identity. And I picked up and played the guitar again towards the end of last year.
Bro, You were a Manasseh to me
Even after my sinful choices and being incarcerated, you were still always there for me with the few years God had left for you. You were always gracious and loving; pointing out my need to repent and continue turning to Christ for heart change.
God used you to “help me forget” the things I had done (Genesis 41:51). Being behind bars didn’t change the fact that we were best friends. I remember part of a conversation we had as you were sitting on the other side of the glass in the visiting booth at the jail. You said “Ami and I want to eventually help plant a church and I want you to help us lead worship.” You weren’t saying that to cover up my sin; you were able to see me in a way that I was struggling to see myself. You saw me through Christ’s shed blood.
You used Zephaniah 3 to encourage me. “Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem! The Lord has taken away the judgments against you; he has cleared away your enemies. The King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst… He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you by his love; He will exult over you with loud singing…” You knew God delighted in me for who I was created to be in Him, and not because of the things I had done. You told me to take comfort, and find delight and pursue joy in that. You even believed in what God wanted to do with me right inside the walls of that jail. You said “don’t forget your mission field is right there in front of you. God has work for you to do while you are there. I am praying that many would come to Christ because they see the transformation He has made in your life.” I don’t know all the fruit that came from that, but I tried to spread the Good News to everyone I could.
However, one fruit God allowed me to witness was when the detective who arrested me received Christ! Just before I moved back to South Carolina, I attended the church he was a member of. He realized he had been in church his whole life and never really understood the gospel. People thought I was crazy for carrying on conversations with the detective that arrested me, but it is clear evidence of God’s amazing grace and His ability to transform lives. I was able to call him my brother in Christ and he accepted me as a brother in Christ. And this is why Christ came: to reconcile all things to Himself. I’m grateful God allowed me to experience just a small part of what reconciliation looks like in the most unconventional way!
Ephraim Moments
There have been 2 significant Ephraim moments in the last 11 years. Your nephew was born in 2014. He will be 10 in a few months. He would have loved you, and you would have been a godly uncle for him to look up to. The birth of my son felt like a fruitful blessing during a time of grief. A blessing I felt so undeserving of yet God saw fit to allow me to experience that blessing and joy.
His middle name is Andrew, just like yours. He reminds me a lot of you. He doesn’t know a stranger and everywhere we go he wants to talk to everyone, show them his toys, or tell them a funny joke. There are times I can’t stop myself from crying when I’m with him because it reminds me of the times that you and I loved to laugh and carry on, just being present and enjoying the moments right in front of us.
Another significant thing that has happened since you’ve been gone was in 2022 when God allowed me the blessing and joy of marrying Dawn. You would love her! She has been both a Mannaseh and Ephraim. Like you, she is always by my side. The way she loves me points me to Jesus and helps me “forget all of my troubles.” She helps me to remember that no matter what we have done, God wants to use people who love and follow Him.
She also reminds me of you sometimes. She’s not afraid to speak her mind. Her truthfulness and honesty can cut to the heart of the matter and she loves people so well in that. She believes and lives out that we should be honest with people we love, and we should want them to do better and be better. The way she and I laugh together reminds me of days you and I laughed at everything and laughed at ourselves. And the deep conversations we have reminds me of things we used to talk about.
God has been healing, restoring, and growing all things new. I wish you could be here to celebrate these things with me. I miss our talks, laughter, tears, and brotherly competitions. I know your passing was not forever, you just beat me to the finish line. I can only imagine the smile on your face when I see you again and you say, “Bro, I beat you to heaven. Glad you finally made it.”
