Safety

One of my best friends went home to be with Jesus last week. Joe Riley, age 34.

Nothing can prepare you for this. Nor should you want to be prepared for it. For some crazy reason I keep thinking I should have been better prepared. But this is nothing like the other challenges I’ve faced in life. There is no “moving on” or “getting over it”. There is just a hole there. There was me before December 7th 2016 and now there’s me after December 7th 2016, with a hole.

I took a strength’s test once and it said my top talent theme, by a long shot, was “Relator”. The description of someone with this theme is:

“…you do derive a great deal of pleasure and strength from being around your close friends. You are comfortable with intimacy. Once the initial connection has been made, you deliberately encourage a deepening of the relationship. You want to understand their feelings, their goals, their fears, and their dreams; and you want them to understand yours. You know that this kind of closeness implies a certain amount of risk -- you might be taken advantage of -- but you are willing to accept that risk. For you a relationship has value only if it is genuine. And the only way to know that is to entrust yourself to the other person. The more you share with each other, the more you risk together. The more you risk together, the more each of you proves your caring is genuine. These are your steps toward real friendship, and you take them willingly.”
http://www.gallup.com/businessjournal/703/relator.aspx

This fits. I thrive on the relationships with those closest to me. Joe was one of my people. It’s hard to beat 15+ years of experiencing life together. From high school, to being in a rock band for 7 years, to being housemates, to being roommates, to being in each others’ weddings and all the milestones in-between. Not many people got me like Joe, and not many people got Joe like me. No matter how much time passed between our calls it was always like we’d just chatted yesterday. I keep having the impulse to call him to talk about all of this.

It’s difficult to summarize why Joe was so special to those who haven’t known him for years. He was the treasure you might walk by every day and not notice was there all along. He was the unexpected heartfelt comment, but only if you had the time to listen. He was the obscure idea that reminded you that being childlike is a good thing. He was the healthy conviction that came from seeing someone so self-aware and humble enough to admit where he needed to improve. He was the guy who put flowers in your car while you were proposing to your wife. He was so many things, in so many small ways that will each forever remind me of him.

The day after he passed, I found myself in a Walmart in front of a rack of themed men’s underwear, bawling. I was there because Joe and I used to do late night Walmart runs for new boxers. I can’t imagine what the other shoppers thought. Maybe “It’s not that hard of a decision”. I picked some Star Wars boxers that had a TIE Fighter chasing an X-Wing and an explosion right on the crotch, because Joe would have thought it was funny.

I once heard a friend who had also experienced loss say “It’s not helpful to ask ‘Why?’. It’s more helpful to ask ‘What’s next?’”. I think he was right. One of the only things that has eased the hurt has been to think about what’s next. There’s no changing what’s happened but I can change me. I can learn from Joe’s life and I can be more like him.

Things I’ve learned through this and through knowing Joe:

We need people.
All I wanted to do was to crawl under the covers and sort this out but you can’t sort things like this out alone. Being with people I was close to and Joe was close to helped. And it’s more than just getting through something. It’s all the time. We truly need people in our lives more than we know. You realize this when one of your closest friends isn’t around anymore.

Be intentional about your close friendships.
It’s easy to take for granted those people who have been with you for the longest amounts of time. Don’t take them for granted. To be honest, I didn’t realize how strong my friendship was with Joe until one day he asked me to be his best man. You don’t know how much you mean to people and they don’t know how much they mean to you. Joe always made sure to stay in touch with me even when he moved across the country. I need to be more like that.

Be weird.
Joe was super weird. He said weird things, wore weird things, and built weird things. He didn’t conform. I was talking to Mike, the lead guitarist from our band, and he said “Joe always had an amazing beard but as soon as he found out it was popular to have a beard he immediately shaved it off.” If I can do anything in my life to honor Joe it would be to embrace what makes me, me and make no apologies for it. I’ve already taken an inventory of a number of areas in my life where my motives were more about getting approval from society or attaining “success” than being true to myself.

Never stop improving.
In my opinion the greatest part about Joe’s story is the immense personal growth. Through many tears and laughs I was privileged enough to be witness to the process. He was always so aware of the areas that needed improvement and was working on doing something about it. And the progress showed. He ended strong. His love for God and people fueled an epic journey from a shy and removed guy to a spiritual powerhouse who knew full well the influence and authority he carried as a follower of Jesus.

The one thing my heart always longed for with Joe was that he would find love, and he most certainly did. Jeanie, you were absolutely perfect for him. I never saw him happier than when he was with you.

In the band, we nicknamed him Safety Joe, because of a french tank helmet he ended up wearing to every show. It was kind of his thing. It was kind of our thing. It started as a joke and ended up being a persona. Now, after all these years as his friend, it takes on new meaning for me. He was always there for me. He was consistent, reliable, and genuinely cared. He was my Safety. And now he is experiencing the ultimate Safety.

Enjoy paradise my friend. I miss you madly but I’m sure God had a crazy idea for a guitar that he needed your help with or something.