This morning, I had the opportunity to walk over to the FHSU Memorial Union and speak to a group of middle and high school students who are on campus for a conference. The title of my 30 minute time to talk was "Live it". I meandered a bit aimlessly this morning, a general idea of what I was going to say.
I typically don't have a defined path, I guess I just sit and listen prior to speaking. Yeah, without a doubt my talk will be about life. Yeah, without a doubt my talk will include death. To some, the idea of talking about death to a group of 7 thru 12th grades may seem a bit crazy.
As I approached the front of the room to begin talking, the kids were shifting, moving from butt cheek to butt cheek. Yeah, they were ready to get up and go. Pencils moving, water bottles rolling, they were just being kids.
A few simple words brought complete silence to the room. My voice crackled as it always does, tears filled my eyes as they always do. "My son Blake was killed in a car accident just outside of Hays, KS". I can't say it without tearing up, the emotions flood my body like gates opening at the Panama Canal.
Not a pencil moved. Every eye in the room was glued to my next word. "I don't want to be here, but it's the only way I can keep my sons voice alive" I shared. The lessons he taught me far to powerful to hoard, to stack within, one upon another. In time, his death would be wasted.
I was exactly where I needed to be, speaking from the heart. The message within the voice. The voice from a broken heart. The broken heart that will forever mend. The mending that takes place in changing lives. The changed lives that create new life.
The cycle of life begins with me, in this moment of time. A beginner forever. Doors never to be sealed, but to be broken down. "Live it"