Ben Entwistle
1988-2008
I don't like the phrase R.I.P. I already know that Ben is in peace. In complete joy and free of pain and suffering. He is with Jesus and I will see him again. We don't mourn for him, but rejoice for him. We mourn for ourselves at having lost him so soon. But what are the 60 or 70 years that we must walk this life without our brother Ben compared to the eternity that we know we will spend with him?
Death is such a difficult thing. It isn't a part of the created order. It is the ultimate consequence of our sin. And yet, death has no victory, and has lost it's sting, because now Ben is finally fully alive. He is home. That is Christ's victory. That is our victory with Christ. We need feel no sting of despair because we have not lost Ben. We will be united with him again soon.
Ben's death is a rush of stinging ice water to my face; a reminder to me of what it really means that my life is not my own, but belongs to Christ. And the days and hours he has lent me here are to be used boldly for him, not tucked away safe and unused in caution and comfort. Like the servants who were given coins, I must invest mine boldly and use them.
I've been given, in such a bitter-sweet way, a newfound courage and confirmation to go back to Covenant, despite my fears of getting sick and having another patched-up semester like the last few. Ben's father reminds me that there are no "what ifs," and that God is completely in control, and that he is good, and that he really and truly loves us. He is overflowing with grace and love in our lives.
Death is such a difficult thing. It isn't a part of the created order. It is the ultimate consequence of our sin. And yet, death has no victory, and has lost it's sting, because now Ben is finally fully alive. He is home. That is Christ's victory. That is our victory with Christ. We need feel no sting of despair because we have not lost Ben. We will be united with him again soon.
Ben's death is a rush of stinging ice water to my face; a reminder to me of what it really means that my life is not my own, but belongs to Christ. And the days and hours he has lent me here are to be used boldly for him, not tucked away safe and unused in caution and comfort. Like the servants who were given coins, I must invest mine boldly and use them.
I've been given, in such a bitter-sweet way, a newfound courage and confirmation to go back to Covenant, despite my fears of getting sick and having another patched-up semester like the last few. Ben's father reminds me that there are no "what ifs," and that God is completely in control, and that he is good, and that he really and truly loves us. He is overflowing with grace and love in our lives.
The Earth feels emptier without you in it Ben,
and the sun is shining a little less brightly without your smile to compete with it.
See you soon, brother!
and the sun is shining a little less brightly without your smile to compete with it.
See you soon, brother!
