This last school year was a year marked by loss in my personal life.

A friend of mine from high school died in a car accident and my best friend’s nephew was stillborn all within a few months, along with a number of other personal life problems that seemed to happen one after another.

After my friend from high school, Ferrari, died, I posted this on my Facebook:

“Adults always warned us about the car accidents that statistically a handful of our classmates, teammates, and friends would be in.

We always pictured that to be a far off reality.

We thought we would always be this invincible group of teenagers that wouldn't have to face the reality of death.

What the adults didn't tell us about was the sense of community that we would feel when these tragic accidents happen.

We all have these wonderful things to say about the people that have died in these last few months in Yakima.

But to me, the most amazing thing is all at once an entire group of people look back on one person's life and we choose to remember the best moments.
We remember the humor and kindness of a person.

We remember their heart.

And what brought them joy.

We remember a smile and a laugh with such clarity. As if the last time we saw them was last week, not months, or even years ago.
We remember these friends of ours with a sense of gratitude that we even got to spend a minute in the presence of such a gentle and compassionate spirit.

We all hurt for these lost lives, but we hurt together.

While it is tragic, it is also a beautiful reminder that our lives matter to one another.
Our community matters.

And I find it to be a great privilege to be a part of such a deeply caring community.
Especially as we say goodbye to Ferrari.

Together.”

After his death the community that my hometown showed struck me. People came together to mourn and talk about memories. All of our classmates that have moved away since graduation were reminded of where we are from and the community that we love.

I thought that this sense of community was something that I could only find in a hometown, somewhere that I had grown with people for 5+ years and developed deep relationships.

However, after the death of Zion (my best friend’s nephew) a few months later, I realized that the strong sense of community is not restricted to merely where I consider myself to be from.

Community exists wherever you are.

I did not think that people at Northwest would be able to understand what it was like to be in the hospital and hold a life-less baby, but still praise God in the same moment.

I thought that experiencing these losses in a community that "chooses joy daily" would be impossible to properly grieve. But people surprised me with their willingness to listen and be present while I processed all that had happened.

While the majority of people did not know what to say or how to encourage my best friend’s family and myself; they were willing and able to sit with us and be with us while we were hurting and mourning.

There were random hugs. There were sweet text messages. My coworkers worked to cover my shifts so I could try to get the sleep I needed. Friends were ready to go for late night drives and skip a night of sleep to be with me.

After my friend from high school died I thought that experiencing loss while at such a small, Christian University would be isolating no matter the circumstance, but after Zion’s death I learned it is only as isolating as you allow it to be.

Reaching out may be hard and scary, but it is so beneficial in the long run.

Trust me.

Talking to someone about hurt and pain is a great step toward healing.