Our God is a God who saves; from the Sovereign Lord comes escape from death. Psalm 68:19-21
I’ve been thinking about life and death this week.
I’ve been reminiscing about fun times with our dear friend, Bob Schmidt, who lost his courageous battle on Sunday, April 21, 2013 to the ugliness of brain cancer.
I hate cancer. It steals from families. It robs from love.
Bob and his wife, Kim, were our neighbors for many years. Our boys grew up together. Soccer matches, baseball games, camping trips, fireworks extravaganzas, backyard barbecues and great conversation are all part of my memories of life with the Schmidt family.
Bob was a firefighter with the Kent, WA Fire Station 71. He was a devoted servant in that job.
He was a loving husband, a proud father, and a good friend.
Wasn’t it just yesterday that we were all enjoying the pyrotechnic abilities Bob brought to every 4th of July?
Has it really been that long ago that Bob encouraged Zane and Gabe down the water slides in Lake Chelan?
It feels like just last week that Bob helped Steve build our deck. We laughed watching two determined men build the strongest deck in the neighborhood.
Where has all the time gone? The years got away from us didn’t they.
Bob and Kim moved and we lost touch for a few years.
Never far from our heart, but not involved in daily life activities anymore.
And then cancer struck.
As soon as we heard, we were drawn back into their lives and it felt as if we never left.
Bob and Kim were so brave during his ten-month battle with glioblastoma cancer.
Never giving up.
But there was a plan that was different than ours.
Bob’s in heaven now.
The story of his journey has touched my heart deeply. I’ll be writing about it in my journal for a long time to come.
Kim told us how she and Bob would gaze at the moon. He’d be working at the fire station in Kent. She and the boys were at their home in Woodinville.
“Kimmer, are you looking at the moon?”, Bob would ask over the phone. Nine times out of ten, Kim was looking at the the same time.
Though distance kept them apart, they gazed at the moon and talked before each of them called it a day.
This story of love sent across the miles makes me smile.
When the news from the doctors wasn’t good, Kim asked this question. “I wonder how many more moons we’ll gaze at together?”
Tomorrow night the moon will be full. The weather here in Seattle is clear. We will see it and think of Bob. I’ll never look at it the same again.
In the light in the dark night, I’ll remember a friend who touched so many lives.
I’ll smile to know he loved well and was well loved. I am thankful for Jesus and heaven – knowing I’ll see Bob in eternity.
And I sure hope we get to be neighbors again.
Bob, we will miss your smile. But we know your light shines on.
Will you pray with me for the Schmidt and Parker families? I know a few broken hearts who could use your prayers.
God bless your heart,