December 22, 2003. My friends' son left this earth tonight after being hit by a car. They did everything they could to revive him, they say. It was quick, they say. Merciful.

My friend left for work this morning without waking the boys. They were sleeping in. He is trying to remember his last words to his son. He and his wife are sitting in their living room surrounded by Christmas gifts and tidings of hope. They don't want to go to sleep tonight. If they go to sleep, they may wake to find out that they aren't dreaming.

His wife called me to pray. I hadn't spoken to her in a long while. "I have bad news," she whispered, "we lost Tim tonight." Lost him? I thought. Well go find him! What do you mean? Did he run away? Did you lose him hiking? Find him quickly, I thought, Christmas is coming. "He was hit by a car. We just got home from the hospital. We had to leave him there -- with the Coroner." the Coroner, I thought, Jesus this can't be happening. How can this be happening? Where are you Jesus? Why can't I find you? I'm beginning to get it suddenly -- and I can't accept it. "Did they exhaust every option?" I ask. Are you sure? "I don't believe you, " I say. "Me either," she whispers back.

I think of him on a coroner's table and I can't function. He'll never come home again. Never argue with his little brother, never forget to feed the cat or let the dog out, never kiss his parents good night -- never open the presents so carefully selected for him on Christmas morning. Never, never, never.

Somehow I got to their house and sat in the center of the livingroom floor. Crying. Not believing. How can this be so? Heartbroken and terrified of our vulnerability. Forever is around the corner I hear whispered somewhere inside me. The good stuff comes later. It's not so long to wait. So what does that mean? I ask. We should just expect this to suck? Until then it should just suck? We should wander around with a target on our heads and be okay with that? It's not fair. Nothing about this is remotely okay.

Help me Lord, I've fallen and I can't get up.

I'm going to light the Hanukkah candles. Pray for me, a sinner.