Goodbye, My Brother

To many, Ian will be remembered as a valiant serviceman who risked his life to protect and serve those who never knew his name, to others he will be remembered as a caring friend who always lent an ear to those who needed it, but to me, he was the closest thing I ever knew to a brother. As with many brothers, we did not have a lot of shared interests or common hobbies, but our mutual history bound us together with ties of allegiance that ran deeper than the shallow conventions of modern friendship. When we talked, we would share our own perspectives, joys, and struggles, not looking to debate, but simply hoping to inform and share, as any two blood brothers would do. I think it was mutually understood that in any other life, we would not have grown close, but in this life, we were fated to have our lives intertwined in a fashion that we could never forget the other.

I met Ian when I was three years old living on Lamplight Drive. Nearly every day after elementary school throughout my time there, I would ask my mother if I could go play with Ian, and with her approval, I would knock meekly on the McConnell door and ask Elizabeth or Meg if Ian was available. Most of the time the answer was yes. It didn’t matter that Ian preferred building intricate Lego sets while I preferred throwing a baseball – we made concessions for one another and merely found joy in each other’s company. Over the years, our interests changed, but this reality remained. Over the past five years, Ian and I talked less and less, but it remained a priority to be in contact and update one another on any new adventures or turn of events. It was simply what you did with family. We would always leave each other with the same exchange – “Love you, brother.” ; “Love you too, man.”

Ian will always be preserved in these memories and he will never leave me. His stamp will always be on my life, and I couldn’t thank him more for this. I can only hope that my own life will mirror the loyalty, honesty, and kindness he has shown me. I will forever miss him and his company deeply.

For reasons I do not fully understand, God has brought me to France to serve Him for the months of July and August rather than be in the states with Ian’s family and friends. For reasons I also do not fully understand, God has permitted Ian to be taken from us. The only comfort I have is that God sorrowfully permitted this to advance a greater purpose. As Romans 8:28 states, “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” (NKJV)

If we accept the glorious and awesome from God, we must also be willing to mournfully accept the necessity of the painful and confusing. We are never promised any joy but the joy of knowing God is sovereign and working in all things. I don’t think we will ever know in this life how Ian’s death fits into God’s plans, but I know that in the end it will make sense.

Elizabeth and Meg, know that this is not your fault; rely on the Lord in all things and seek comfort in Him. Be honest with Him and seek Him in truth. He weeps with you over Ian’s passing, and desires to bring you peace beyond all understanding.

Goodbye, my friend. Goodbye, my brother. You were loved.