David Johnston was born November 4, 1968, and went to be with the Lord on March 3, 2016. His death was one that impacted hundreds of lives. He was my youth pastor and taught me much about God. Little did I know that God had one final lesson in store to teach me through Dave. The moment I found about his death, my eyes were open to the preciousness of life and the impact that just one life can have on others. This is the essay I wrote about the moment I found out he had died.

I was wondering how odd we looked. My long brown hair blew in the wind as I pulled the two-year-old boy with black hair and squinty eyes in a bright red wagon down the street. He was chanting words half in Chinese, half in English. I didn’t understand when he spoke in either language, so I just nodded whenever I heard his voice behind me.

Ever since I started nannying him, Sami and I joined the sun outside whenever it came out. Going for walks with Sami was one of my favorite activities. After several days of rain, the sun always had a way of making me feel hopeful.

I felt a buzz in my back pocket. My friend had texted me. Expecting something funny, I read the text.

“Dave passed away today.”

I stopped. My feet were still. The movement around me felt odd. On the concrete across from me a girl roller-bladed as she video chanted one of her friends. I looked back at Sami. His face looked confused, asking why we stopped. But he smiled at me. My lips curled slightly. I looked straight at the road ahead.

I turned the wagon around and then, paused again. After a few minutes my feet could move, but my mind couldn’t. He’s gone.

As I walked back to Sami’s house, I went straight there, taking no detours in random neighborhoods like I normally do. I passed a married couple, in between them was their daughter, she looked about five. All holding hands, they were going for their evening scroll. Normally this scene would fill me with joy. I tried to smile, but it was flimsy. I looked back at Sami, he was content and humming to himself. I couldn’t help but think about how young he was, not even two. He had so much life ahead of him, so much potential. When Dave had all of his just ripped out of his hands.

But I was expecting this, he had been battling cancer for over a year. The doctors were never optimist. Yet, his coming death had always felt like distant glooming cloud. I prayed about it sometimes, but it was far off. Maybe the wind would blow it in the opposite direction and never come and make a mess of his life. But the storm had come. The news of his death felt like a tree had fallen on me. It was heavy.

I wrestled with my thoughts. But, shouldn’t I be happy? He was in the presence of the Lord. I could have assurance of that. He had been a youth pastor for twenty-five years at our church. For the previous seven years I had been under his leadership and for the past four years I had served along side of him. Never had I seen him waver. He was a calm and devoted man. He had know what to live for- his family, his church, and his Lord. I had seen his devotion even after he was told he had a terminal brain tumor. He showed up to youth group the week after with a lesson planned. And then the week after that, he showed up again. During a few of those times, he had a seizure in the middle of the lesson. His words would slur and half of his face would freeze. His wife would join him on stage and help.

Once it was over, he would say, “Sorry guys, just give me a minute.” And then after a pause, “Now, in John chapter 10 we see…”

But these memories weren’t on my mind. I couldn't think of the good times or the bad times. The only thing I could think of was the fact that he was now dead. Never would I be able to speak to him again. He was forever removed from this earth and forever removed from our lives.

Sami and I approached the house. I pulled the humming boy out of his red wagon. My voice was light, “Let’s go inside now Sami.” Once inside, I sat on the floor, my back against the couch. I was stone still. Sami was calmly playing on the floor, being gentler than normal. He stole many glances my way, always with a smile. As I looked at him I couldn’t help but think how precious his life was. He wanted me to play with him like I normally did, but I couldn't gather myself to do it.

“Oh, Sami…” I whispered.

Then suddenly like a switch, the tears came. The thought of his family brought only sorrow. I thought about his children and his wife. If only I could see them now.

Sami walked over to me and stuck out his index finger. Gingerly he placed it on my tear, and then my other tear, and then my other.