Kyle Lake

Kyle’s is a story that needs telling. Lynnette knew him better than I, but I knew him enough that it hurt when I heard he died. It was though the crying voice of a friend in Texas. She had been there that morning watching the baptism, worshiping and loving in the context of community, two things Kyle Lake no doubt made her better at.

As Ann wrote, “The laws of nature intersected with humanity, and humanity lost.” Kyle’s life and story are already being told across the world. A Google search Sunday night around 10 PM showed only three news stories, but about 300 blog entries. Like all good men, his legacy will outlive him. His books will tell of his theology, his friends will tell of his greatness, and his wife and children will tell of his love.

Lives are tragically cut short nearly every day. Children, teenagers, and adults in the prime of life die when some least expect it. It is tragic because the great mass of potential they all represent is never actualized. The proper release of kinetic energy never happens, and we are all left bloated with hope and dreams. We think about what could and should have been, about what now will never be, and how we might never get on with our lives. Mourning often paralyzes.

The suddenness of the accident has me personally shaken. I worry about airplanes, certain neighborhoods after dark, and eating too fast. But I forget to worry about taking showers, jogging, and going to the supermarket. The randomness of the accident has me wondering if there can be a God who orders all things. Surely a God who has his or her house in order could see the series of steps that led to Kyle’s death. But a God of order is simply one that I like because it is a God that I have figured out. Behold the random mystery of God, who is bigger than our fears, our stereotypes, our theology, and our daytimers.

It is up to us, the living, to tell the stories of those who have gone before us. Sometimes, the deaths of legacies are more tragic than the deaths of those who left them. May we daily tell Kyle’s story as many are telling through their typing tonight. May we tell Kyle’s story through the life we live and the difference we make. May we not wear cement shoes because fear and doubt dare us not to move. May we live life not without regrets, but with big dreams that we are willing to chase down. Kyle’s story will be told as we look into the eyes of humanity and make our mark.