Authors: Melody Carlson
Oh, Clay, dearest, Clay. You were so good, so true, so honest, so very dear. So incredibly good. Oh, Clay, how could God allow you to leave this world when we need you so badly right now? I will never in a hundred years understand this.
My heart is shattered into millions of tiny pieces, and I don’t know if I can ever trust God again.
I finally went to join
he members of our church who had gathered to pray for Tony Berringer (Clay’s brother and our pastor) as well as the other kids who were shot and their families. Two other kids have died (a senior girl who had almost a four-point GPA, and a junior boy who’d been on the track team and had raced against Zach and Josh). It all seems so unbelievably unfair. The other wounded kids are in varying conditions, but they say most are out of critical danger by now. I just don’t get it. Kids killing other kids. Why?
Tony joined us at the prayer meeting this evening. He was being amazingly brave and gracious and even said we must also pray for the shooter (and to forgive him), and then Tony burst into tears. Of course, we were all crying. It’s just the saddest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.
But I guess I needed to go and be with the others. Somehow it’s comforting to be with people who are in the same kind of pain. Andrea and I hugged and cried for a
long time (I think we both felt like sinners who deserved to die far more than someone as good as Clay). All the youth group kids were there, and we went into another room separate from the adults for a while. Zach sort of acted as the leader and no one complained. Beanie was there too, and I could tell she’d been crying a lot, but I hadn’t talked to her since earlier today when she and Zach dropped me home from school.
All the McFadden kids filled us in on all the horrible details of the shooting (some of them had witnessed the entire horrifying event). It was more details than I ever wanted to hear. But I think they needed to talk about the whole thing—sort of get it out of their systems, I guess. We are all in shock over it still, and we all miss Clay more than words will ever say. For a long time we sat there remembering all the things he had said to us in the last few weeks.
Then Andrea spoke up and said, “It’s kind of like when Jesus died, isn’t it?” We all knew what she meant. I mean, it’s probably sacrilegious or something to make that kind of comparison, but we couldn’t help it. Clay was so good.
Then I said, stupidly enough, “The only problem is that Clay won’t rise from the dead in three days.”
But Zach challenged me on that. “He has already risen from the dead,” he said as if he personally knew something we didn’t. “Right now, Clay is in heaven with Jesus.” Several others agreed. I suppose they’re right, but all I could think was, a whole lot of good that does me. I wanted him to be down here where we could see him
and listen to him.
About then Tony came in and asked if he could have a short word with us. I felt so sorry for him—he looked so tired and sad. But his words didn’t sound tired and sad. And he proceeded to tell us about a Clay we had never even known.
As it turns out, Tony and Clay moved here a couple years ago (after Tony’s wife had died of cancer). Before that Tony had been a pastor in a big city, where he had raised Clay after his parents had died when Clay was only ten. But apparently after Judith (Tony’s wife) died, Clay had started getting really rebellious and getting into all kinds of trouble—serious things like drugs and stealing and all sorts of stuff. I know everyone in the youth group was totally shocked to hear this; I guess we had begun to think that Clay was just about perfect. Anyway, Tony said he wasn’t telling us this to in any way diminish Clay’s memory, but so that we could all see how far God had taken Clay in a very short time.
After getting arrested (at only sixteen), Clay hit absolute rock bottom and finally called out on God, and then he rededicated his life to Jesus. “And it was like night and day,” said Tony. “We moved here, and I’ve never seen a life change so completely, so quickly—it was a real miracle.” He sobbed as he continued. “God gave Clay two amazing years and I know Clay is sitting next to Jesus right now—and he’s having no regrets.”
Then Tony just totally broke down and we all went up and hugged him and told him how much we loved Clay
and how much his life had meant to us, and how thankful we were to have known him—even if it was only just briefly.
Now I’m sitting here thinking, maybe that’s just the way it is. We all have a certain number of days to live, and we don’t know the number. But at least Clay was living his life to the best of his ability. And, like Tony says, I know he has no regrets.
Then I wonder, could I have said the same if I’d been killed in a drunken driving accident last weekend? Not hardly. It’s a lot to consider and I’m not even sure what I think about everything yet. But I don’t think I’m mad at God anymore. For one thing, I know that would make Clay sad. And, no, I’m not living my life for Clay. But I just don’t want his life to have been wasted on me.
There was a message on our answering machine from Josh when we got home tonight. But I just can’t bring myself to call him back. I just don’t think I want to talk to him yet. Zach is going to drop Beanie by to spend the night here. I think she is taking this even harder than me. I’m not sure why. But I suppose I’ll find out; we’ll probably talk about this all night.
We had a very moving memorial service for Clay in church yesterday; the room was packed with people I’ve never seen there before. The youth group had offered to sing the song that Clay had written (and sung to us just a week ago—I cannot believe it was only a week; it
seems like a hundred years!).
We practiced most of the day yesterday until we got it almost perfect. And I think everyone appreciated it. Then Tony talked about Clay’s life (some of the same things he’d already told us) and then he spoke about the seed that falls to the ground and dies and then a hundred new plants spring out of it. He said that just last night God had showed him that that’s how it would be with Clay’s life. And something inside of me agreed.
Today there was a burial service at the cemetery for Clay and even more people came (several hundred, I’m sure!). The cars were lined up for about a mile, and I think almost every kid from McFadden plus a bunch from Harrison were there too (including Josh). They even had to set up a PA system so that everyone could hear. And we sang Clay’s song again—I still can’t sing it without crying.
It was a good service, and I know many people were deeply touched. And although I’ll never, ever get over losing Clay, I feel like I can keep going now. Like, for Clay’s sake, I want to love and obey God more than I’ve ever done before. And today, for the first time since Friday, I felt this little twinge of, I don’t know, almost like joy—but not real bubbly or anything. Maybe it was more like peace; I’m not sure. But anyway, it was a good twinge. Kind of like a deep sigh. And I felt like everything is going to be okay after all. I’m still pretty sad too. Hard to describe, I guess.
Afterwards, Josh came up and gave me a hug and wanted to give me a ride home. But I said, “No, I need to
ride home with my parents,” which wasn’t exactly true (I mean they weren’t making me), but I needed to because I wanted to. I’ve felt closer than ever to my family these past few days (even Benjamin!), and I don’t mind spending time with them. I know it’s been like that for a lot of the kids in our youth group. And I think it’s a good thing. A lot of us were getting sort of wild and pushing our limits and stuff. Maybe this was a good reminder that family is important.
But I do feel sorry for Beanie. She seemed so confused the other night. Her mom isn’t doing so well, not that that’s anything new (Lynn has a new boyfriend who sounds like a major creep), and I know Beanie has been depending on Zach for a lot (too much I think). So, anyway, I said to Beanie that I’m here for her. And that I plan on being a whole lot more available, and maybe we both just needed to give this boyfriend thing a rest for a while.
I don’t know if she took me too seriously (or maybe she thought I was just saying all that to be nice), but I really did mean it. I even told her if she needed a place to stay, I could probably talk my parents into letting her come live with us. And I’m pretty sure that I could. My parents really seem to be changing since they’re back together and going to Faith Fellowship. It seems like their relationship with God is becoming more real too. Right now, in spite of all the tragedy, I feel just slightly hopeful about a lot of things.
But one thing I’m not too hopeful for—it’s me and Josh.
I just don’t know what to do about that. Right now, I don’t even want to think about it.
It’s been a
pretty quiet week in our town, sort of like someone spread a thick gray blanket of sadness over the whole place. I think almost everyone is grieving in one way or another—even the grocery store has a black wreath hanging by the front door. The other two funerals were held this week, along with a big memorial service at McFadden High last night. Their school won’t open their doors until the middle of next week. The other kids who were shot have been released from the hospital now and it sounds like they’re all making fairly good recoveries—many people attribute this to all the prayers that have been going up all over town (and even across the country!).
It turns out that the other two kids who died in the shooting were both Christians. In fact, they were friends of Clay (we just learned that this week). And Pastor Tony’s “seed” theory is really proving to be right on the money, because lots of kids have been giving their hearts to Jesus throughout the week. Everyone is talking about
it. And I must admit it’s encouraging to see such things. (Still, my heart aches for missing Clay.) But I do think it would make him happy to see everything that’s happening as a result (and maybe he’s up there watching).
All those national media vans have finally disappeared from hanging all over town, and I think life is slowly returning to a subdued sort of normal. I suppose in time our town will fully recover, but I doubt if we’ll ever forget. I know I’ll never forget. So far there doesn’t seem to be any big explanation for the kid who did the killing; I mean, other than he was really angry and had access to firearms. Some kids say he belongs to some satanic internet group, and he took a vow to kill Christians. But all kinds of rumors are floating around right now, and I’m not sure what’s true and what’s not, but time will tell, I guess. Pastor Tony says we all need to keep praying for him, no matter what he’s involved in—and that that’s what Clay would want. So, I try, but I must admit my prayers sound a little halfhearted to me. But maybe God understands.
Okay, here’s what’s bugging me today. (I know it sounds pretty silly and insignificant after everything else that’s happened in the last week, but it’s a problem just the same.) You see, my parents both seem to really like Josh (he’s been coming by our house more often lately), and even Benjamin seems to think he’s okay, especially when they shoot hoops together. And I know my mom is thinking it’s so wonderful that I’m going to the prom with him and
all. So now I’m wondering, what in the world am I going to do about all this?
I mean—I do feel like I’m supposed to break up with him, but how will I explain this to everyone? And what if they’re all disappointed and everything? Maybe I should just wait until
after
the prom (well, not the very next day, of course, but a week or so after). But then it’ll be graduation time (for Josh, I mean), and I know there’ll be all sorts of parties and stuff where he’ll want to have his girlfriend along with him to celebrate. And, well, I just don’t know what to do about this whole stupid thing! To be honest, going to the prom still sounds like fun (maybe not as great as it used to sound, but it’d probably be fun).
On top of everything, my mom wants to go looking for a prom dress with me tomorrow (and I know she’s really excited about all this—almost like we’re planning a big wedding or something). I just feel so totally torn. I mean, ever since Clay’s death, I’ve gotten closer than ever with my parents, but I’ve also been getting closer and closer to God. And I’m really starting to believe that my relationship with Josh has been a hindrance to my relationship with Jesus all along (just consider the way we started out!). I guess I almost feel (as Clay used to say) “convicted” about this whole thing. Clay told us once how God had given him certain convictions and at the time I wasn’t totally sure what he meant by that. Except that he said it was a personal thing and it was different for everyone. But he said that when you got one you knew it.
Well, I think I’ve got one and I’m pretty sure that I
know it. I’m just not totally certain how to handle it without hurting a whole bunch of people and making a great big mess of everything. But I do have a feeling if I wait too long, it’ll be even worse, and maybe too late.
DEAR GOD, PLEASE HELP ME TO KNOW HOW TO HANDLE THIS. I THINK YOU’RE TELLING ME TO BREAK UP WITH JOSH. BUT A BIG PART OF ME IS STRUGGLING WITH I T. PLEASE, SHOW ME SOMEHOW WHAT I NEED TO DO. THANK YOU.
I wimped out and went ahead and shopped for prom dresses with my mom today. After trying on about a hundred gorgeous gowns I just burst into tears. Well, my mom told the salesclerk we’d be back later, and then she rushed me out of there and into a nearby deli, where she ordered us both turkey sandwiches (thinking I was suffering from low blood sugar or some such thing). Anyway, I couldn’t stop crying. And about then she decides I must still be grieving for Clay (which may actually be true) so she very sweetly tries to comfort me by saying how we all loved him, but we need to move on with our lives and things like that. By then I just can’t stand it anymore, so I blurt out, “I can’t keep dating Josh.”
Well, my mom sort of blinks in surprise, and then asks me what exactly is going on. And I cannot believe it, but I sit right there in the corner booth of The Great Tomato Delicatessen and tell her almost everything that has gone on with me and Josh. And she listens, then simply says, “Well, honey, if you need to break up with him, you
better do it right away.”