Today was John Burke's funeral. John was more of an acquaintance of mine than a friend. We conversed in church on occasion when his family started attending Christ's Church a little over a year and a half ago. He came over and played frisbee with us once last summer. John had a tumor in his brain stem which made it inoperable. I remember the first time I visited John at home once he was bedridden. As we walked in the door you couldn't help but be overcome by the smell of the stale air, a smell I would strangely come to welcome upon each return. It always seemed a little awkward, especially at first until I became better acquainted with the family, and one never quite knew what to say so I was content to hide behind my guitar as simply a quiet reassurance that there were people who cared. The cancer and lack of mobility had taken it's toll on John's physical body. He couldn't really talk or move around a lot. We sang a few songs and he rocked his foot along off beat. God was in the room that night. I knew He was, because I knew the pain of this precious family was but an echo of the pain of the Father. They would not attend a dying son and brother alone, because God was there, and He was crying with them. As awkward as it could be I was always pleased to go back there because I knew it was a place where God was. The last time was late Thursday morning. We went to support Rose and Sarah and Jess and to see John Sr, who was also recovering from an operation removing his own brain tumor. Why so much in one family I will never understand. John died later that afternoon. He was only 23. Though from the stories I heard and the pictures I saw today it was a full 23 years. I think I would've like John if I'd gotten to know him. I think that a lot when I go to funerals. They miss who they've known. I miss ever getting to know him. It's a sobering reminder to take advantage of every opportunity, every conversation. Because I fear my greatest regret will not be something I've done, but the many somethings I was too afraid to do.

In memory of John Burke, 1982-2005

For Rose, John Sr, Jess, Dan, and especially Sarah: "Can a woman forget her nursing child and have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands" Isaiah 49:15-16