I Want To Be Like Erik

Remembering a friend two years later...

I don’t remember when it happened, or where, but I remember what he said:

Can you believe this? Did you ever think this was possible? 

Life can be lonely. You try to make or build something with a group of friends and you still feel like a loner at the party sipping punch alone. One minute everyone is excited about the dream, and what could-be, and the next, you’re seen as incompetent, crazy, or just not the right cup of tea for their liking. You never know when a loyal disciple will turn into Judas giving you the kiss of so long and bye-bye. Friends turn to enemies, and supporters turn to critics. 

Not Erik. 

When you wondered if what you were making was worth the time, he reminding you of the grace all around. When loneliness set in and your joy quotient was low, he’d whisper: 

Can you believe this? Look what we get to be part of.

Erik was a loyal husband, father, disciple, friend, and ally. A guy everyone needs in their corner, a man of simple faith, but a faith that would carry yours when it faltered. A humble presence and servant leader willing to find a solution to any problem. What Erik never realized was his gift to the world wasn’t helping me fix an electrical outlet. His gift were timely and simple words full of faith aimed at a friend who wasn’t sure if they could keep going:

 Can you believe it? Did you think this was possible?

No, I didn’t, and no, I don’t. I’m still amazed at grace and how it runs the whole thing. How a dream can become a reality. But with all dreams and relationship there aren’t always happy endings. 

Two years ago, I walked into an ER praying for a friend dealing with severe stomach pain. Was it an ulcer? Diet related? Gas? Test after test revealed nothing. Days turned into weeks and the pain worsened. And then a diagnosis:

Cancer. 

That God-forsaken and result-of-the-fall word. A word most humans, if you live for any length of time, will learn to dance with. But when it strikes a man in his 40s with a lovely wife, and three small children, and in good health, you have no place to put this demonic word. 

You think cancer is for older people, not men in their prime. How did a routine visit to the ER come to this? Okay, you pray, take a breath, and face what is. People get cancer, and there are treatment options, right?

Sure, but then you hear what nobody wants to hear: this cancer is super-rare. These God-forsaken-abnormal-cells are spreading and there is not much we can do. No treatment options, no surgeries, nothing. 

What? Ha, ha, very funny. Sounds like a joke Erik would play on me. You’re kidding, right? Erik came into the hospital three weeks ago with stomach pain. It happens to many people. He’s a husband, dad, and friend. There is something we can do, right?

We prayed, we fasted, we consulted with doctors. We hugged, cried, and cried some more. I held his hand, and told him Resurrection was right around the corner, and watched one of my best friends take his last breath.  

I walked into an ER to pray with a friend. A few weeks later I did his funeral. Not the way it’s supposed to be. 

This happened two years ago. It still feels like an open wound that hasn’t healed. But Erik’s faith still carries me. 

I want to be more like Erik. Be the cheerleader when things look grim. I want to see more of the grace and goodness around me, and less focused on what isn’t and what’s not working. Perhaps there is someone I can encourage to keep going when life feels like tires spinning in a mud pile when no hope of forward motion.

We all need an Erik in our lives. A companion on the lonely road of life. The gift of Erik and his friendship is a daily reminder that grace is all around us, and we just need eyes to see. 

See you soon, my friend!