I'm writing this one on my flight back to Indianapolis after a beautiful weekend of celebrating my brother before he gets married. I'm also heading home to a death of a local student and the debris it has left in the hearts of many people. Several students in my highschool ministry knew Derrick Wilson. I would say hi to him at lunch. I would salute him and call him by his last name. He wore a uniform.

My church brought in a rap artist. The turnout was great and Wilson was there. Wilson wrapped his car around a tree later that night.

I get off-kiltered at the stark detour of death. Certain things that seemed important earlier now seem to pale in comparison. I got off the phone at the Atlanta airport with a student who explained to me how his group of friends had been split in half as of late. A feud had been ensuing for some time now. Wilson's death made that look like kitty poo. Immediately they experienced a reconciliation of their differences and a common understanding of the things that paled in comparison.

Certain things just don't seem very important when death puts life into perspective. I don't have a desire to jam to Party Like a G6. I don't want sober girls around me who "be actin' like they drunk." I want things that are of eternally valuable. Songs like that aren't. Its message has no eternal value. It's like those Magic Eye books where if you blur or cross your eyes just right, a colorful design that looked 2D now consists of some objects that pop out in 3D and the hidden meaning of the picture becomes more clear.

One of my students hasn't had a great relationship with his dad. And rightfully so. I wouldn't either coming in second to booze and being kicked out and left to find the friends that would let me live with them. However, this dad got wind of the death and met up with his son. Began to apologize for all that he has done and then noticed his son's Playstation. They played together till one in the morning.

When life is cruising right along how you think it should, it is 2D. When tragedy rears it's head, we get blurred eyes. Certain things pop out as 3D, as more important. What is important and what isn't is made clear.

It happens this way because dead things stink, and we get used to how they smell. It's like a stinky trash can you don't realize stinks until you go outside, get some fresh air, and return inside to be hit with a wall of stagnant stink. When life becomes fragile, we relearn to take care of it. The fresh air comes, the stink is no longer tolerable.

Students stuck a cross in the ground in front of the tree. Flowers and notes flooded the ground around it as the day went on. Some of my students loved on Wilson's family, expressing their deep gratitude for Wilson's life. A memorial was held after school Monday. The turnout was large. It was clear Wilson's life was one that changed other lives for the better, even through his death. And that's all we can do. Relearn to take care of one another, allow a tragedy to clean us of the trash and take advantage of seizing what pops out as more important.

A great article can be found here. Xavier Cortez (in the article) is one of my students.