The Passing of a Good Man

Last Saturday we laid my friend Carlos to rest. He had been fighting a battle against cancer since long before I knew him. The treatments had taken their toll on his body, but still his spirit was strong. I never heard him complain. As I would grab his arm to help him stand or cross a rough spot, he’d turn it into a joke. At forty two years old, he seemed far too young to die.

Carlos (center)

Carlos was a dreamer and a visionary, I think that’s why we enjoyed each other’s company so much. But, Carlos didn’t just dream, he was a doer. I remember one day we’d had a long meeting with Don Guillermo about an upcoming youth event in the city. Carlos had taken notice of a group of BMX bikers, young guys doing stunts in the park, and although he was very tired, as we got back in the car he turned to me and said, “Let’s go find them, we need to invite them to this event”. We found two or three and arranged a meeting with the whole group for the following night. That night, as Carlos struggled from the car it began to rain. We all tried to huddle under a tin roof overhanging the sidewalk and Carlos, sitting on a wooden bench with the boys and their bikes gathered around him, shared his concern for their lives. He invited them to come and do a BMX bike show at the event. As Carlos spoke with these young guys and shared with them his testimony and the story of his own life, I watched them respond to Carlos in a way I've seldom seen. Talking to youth, loving youth came so natural and easy to him.

The BMXers Carlos invited to the youth event.

Carlos, interviewing one of the leaders of the BMX group.

Carlos was the director at Youth with a Mission (YWAM) here in Aguas de Padre. The stories so many young people shared during the funeral about Carlos and his influence on their lives were touching. He was like a father too me, he believed in me, he loved me, he took me in when I was down and out, he was my friend. There was laughter and tears intermingled. It was a time of remembrance and celebration of his life.

I had asked the question recently at our weekly men’s breakfast if you could judge the meaningfulness of your life and the effectiveness of your ministry by who came to your funeral. I couldn't help but think about this question as I watched and listened to those who had come from all over Honduras, the US, and Central and South America or who were joining us by video link to honor Carlos and share how his life had impacted their lives. It was so evident that Carlos' life and ministry had made a difference.  

The funeral was an all-day event, seven hours. It was casual and interactive and deeply personal. People flowed in and out of the room at the base where the service was held. There was plenty of time for self-introspection. I left that day with two things.

First, I came to terms once again with the fact that that one day I too will die. I find that I need to rethink that idea from time to time. At times I find that I am holding too tightly onto my life. The day and time of my departure is something that I have no real control over. To be at peace with the idea that one day I too will pass on allows me to enjoy the time I have even more and to live with a certain freedom which otherwise would not exist if I worry overly much about my safety.

The second thing I left with was the renewed desire to really live life. To live life as if tomorrow may never come. To enjoy the moment. To be free to dream. Free to love, to give, to share. To let go of petty differences, to allow people to be themselves, to forgive, to let go of expectations. All of these things are part of really living and enjoying life. I want to live life!

Carlos was an incredible example of what really living looks like. Honduras lost a great hero of the faith. Heaven gained one.