Sunday, November 15, 2009

Requiem for a Fallen Friend

7 months ago today, Kevin Clark Wood died at the age of 33. He was a husband and father of three, a 10 month old daughter, 3 year old daughter, and 12 year old son. He was married to his wife, Katherine.

When I started my junior year at EWU last year, I went into my first class of the day, Organic Chemistry I. By chance I sat down next to a tall bald guy who immediately introduced himself with an infectious enthusiasm. We hit it off really well, and began meeting to study O-chem. Kevin and I quickly grew to have a strong friendship, one built upon our similarities. We were both non-traditional students, were both pre-med and most importantly, both Christians. As the quarter progressed, Kevin and I developed our routine: we would meet up almost daily after classes were over to study Organic Chemistry. We were both very focused on doing well, and through our hard work the two of us had the top two grades in organic chemistry.

As a result of our positive results in Organic I, Kevin and I decided to ensure we had several classes in common for winter quarter, since we enjoyed working with one another. Kevin and I sat next to each other in our classes, not only explaining things to one another, but often bantering back and forth, just goofing off for the sake of it. Our friendship was now one that had grown and we talked not just about school, but would debate and discuss our views on Christianity (we both shared the same disillusions with many aspects of the Church), our marriages. Kevin was a great father and loved children. As such, he was always encouraging and excited for Alison's pregnancy. In fact, Kevin was the very first person to know about our pregnancy. Kevin and I were settling in for our first organic chemistry test of the year when Alison called me just ten minutes before the test began to tell me the news (nice timing, honey!) and naturally I turned to Kevin and gave him the news (for the record, despite that ignominious timing, I earned the highest grade in the class on the test).

Despite how short we had known each other, Kevin had grown to be one of the closest friends I had. A true brother. Spring quarter rolled around, and yet again, we arranged to share classes and continued with our studying routine, meeting at a local coffee shop almost daily. By this time we were in organic chemistry III and our first test was scheduled for the Friday of the second week. Kevin and I would usually start studying intently 4 days before a test to ensure we had a mastery of the material and concepts. However, we got off to bit of a late start on this test, waiting until Wednesday to start studying. Our classes that day, April 15th, ended at 2 PM. Kevin and I walked out of our classes, discussing our studying plans for the night. I had a chemistry lab project that was due and had to be done at the school. I estimated it would take an hour to complete, and informed Kevin I'd meet him at just after 3 PM at a local Jack in the Box; one that had lots of empty tables in the back that were always empty and relatively quiet.

God works in odd ways, his timing and reasons beyond my comprehension. As I began my project, it became clear right away that it was not going to take an hour, and my frustration over losing even more precious studying time, time that was now short due to my own procrastination led to me uttering some choice words in the lab. I called Kevin at 3:08 PM to tell him I'd be late. He acknowledged, saying it wasn't a big deal and that he'd be there whenever I arrived. That call was the last time anyone talked to Kevin.

After completing my project at a belated 4:30 PM, I left campus and drove to the Jack in the Box. Pulling into the parking lot, Kevin's Honda was parked by the entrance and I parked next to his vehicle. Going inside, I walked in, turned the corner . . . and nothing. No Kevin. No books, no papers, no trace whatsoever. I checked the bathroom. Empty. I asked the manager if she had seen anyone in the back. She said she hadn't. Finding this decidedly odd, I called Kevin. No response. I left a message stating my alarm and puzzlement at finding his car there, but not him. Little did I know, but my friend was already gone.

Kevin died there, in that Jack in the Box of sudden cardiac arrest. Apparently, he had been at the tables in the back, studying alone when the Lord took him. There were two paramedics who happened to be buying food at the time, who saw Kevin collapse out of his chair and they attended to him immediately. He had already been taken to Sacred Heart by the time I got there, where after working on him for over an hour, Kevin was declared dead.

I would not find out until the next day. Due to his failure to return my call after the bizarre incident of seeing his car at the Jack in the Box but not him, I was already concerned. First period on Thursday, no Kevin. Second period, no Kevin. Third period was Biochemistry, and we had a quiz that day, surely he would be there. No Kevin. By this time, I was openly concerned, remarking to a few of the people who sat next us about my odd experience the night before at the Jack in the Box. At the end of the period, our professor announced that if anyone was friends with Kevin Wood, they needed to stay after class. It was there that I was informed of the passing of my close friend, one of the singularly devastating moments of my life.

My drawn out lab the day before would end up being a final opportunity for Kevin and his family. Usually we would go straight to studying and would rarely go home until late each night. Kevin had gone home after class since I was lagging behind, and as such Kevin saw his family one last time. Kevin and his wife talked. He played peek-a-boo with his 10 month old at the top of the stairs as he left. Kevin walked out to his car only to find he had forgotten his keys, and went back inside and kissed his wife again goodbye. I am so glad that Kevin's last hours were spent with his family and not me. It haunts me to this day that had I not been delayed with my lab project I would have likely been seated across from Kevin when he passed and his family would have been deprived of that last interaction. Kevin proceeded from his home to the Jack in the Box at about 3 PM. I called him at 3:08 PM, the last phone call logged according to his family. He collapsed only 15 minutes later.

Kevin's passing has been one of the hardest things I've experienced. I've lost close relatives and family friends before, but they were always elderly, often at end of long term illnesses. Their passings seemed inevitable and merciful given the pain many of them were in. Kevin's death provided no such catharsis. He was a fit, energetic, charismatic person who exuded life. I still cannot fully understand how someone I last saw so full of happiness and friendliness could be dead an hour later. The pathologist who performed the autopsy came back puzzled. Kevin was a healthy, fit 33 year old who had died due to his heart spontaneously "crossing its wires" and stopping. No real reason for his heart attack was definitively established. I think Kevin's brother summed it up best at the funeral: God simply took him. Death is no longer as frightening and unsettling to me, God has used this to highlight just how ingrained in this temporary world our minds are, how elusive an eternal perspective is for our finite minds.


Kevin was someone I felt was going to be lifelong friend, an "inner circle" type who I would confide in, trust, and fellowship with. One realization I had after Kevin's death was that in the 7 months of school prior, I had spent more time with Kevin than anyone else, even my own wife. Having such a jarring transition, having my daily routine completely and irreversibly disrupted was brutally unpleasant. Going back to school the next day and having his empty seat next to me in our classes. Studying by myself was boring, cold, and seemed meaningless. Kevin and I had been so intent on our studies, that we never really met apart from our study times. Not to say that we didn't have times where we just talked and goofed off for a few hours instead of studying, but for the most part we were serious, diligent students. We often talked about how much we were looking forward to the summer, when we would be able to meet up at his house and go out onto the new deck he had built and drink beer together. We had plans for possibly even trying to take our families on a trip together.

I have had many days of extreme sadness. I've cried as hard as I've ever cried. Processing his death has been a long, emotional process. From my very first thought upon hearing Kevin was dead ("God, how could you let him die in a f&%@ing Jack in the Box!!") to the cold reality of seeing his daughters, who look just like him, knowing they would likely not have a memory of their father, the injustice of the situation is withering. I still haven't been able to bring myself to erase his phone number from my blackberry.

It's funny how there are some small moments in life that seem unremarkable and insignificant, yet prove to be completely otherwise. Kevin and I would often carpool to EWU from our homes on Spokane's South Hill. Last spring, just weeks before his own passing, we were in the car on I-90 when we went by an accident, one that looked bad, bad as in unsurvivable. One moment that in retrospect now sticks with me was Kevin's reaction. We each looked at the mangled truck with the same uneasy thoughts of our own mortality going through our heads. Kevin turned to me and with reserved amazement, commented how quickly our lives could end, how precarious our own body is. A strangely prophetic moment.

As I stated earlier, Kevin loved children. It meant alot that Kevin was always asking how Alison's pregnancy was coming along, always encouraging us and enthusiastically stating the new ways I was going to see life after our child was born. Due to his pivotal role, having been the first person to know outside of me and Alison, to the fact that he was a consistent "cheerleader" for Alison's pregnancy, I named my son, Aron Kevin, after my absent friend. I miss him dearly, and the fact that he never got the opportunity to hold my son is one of the great disappointments of my life. I pray my son will grow to be a man of equal stature. Kevin's family has maintained a memorial website for him located at www.rememberingkevinwood.com. I encourage everyone to go there as it is a beautiful site with many great photos and stories about him, just follow the link.
RIP my friend. I believe we will meet again.

1 Corinthians 15:51-58

  • 51.
  • But let me tell you a wonderful secret God has revealed to us. Not all of us will die, but we will all be transformed.
  • 52.
  • It will happen in a moment, in the blinking of an eye, when the last trumpet is blown. For when the trumpet sounds, the Christians who have died will be raised with transformed bodies. And then we who are living will be transformed so that we will never die.
  • 53.
  • For our perishable earthly bodies must be transformed into heavenly bodies that will never die.
  • 54.
  • When this happens, when our perishable earthly bodies have been transformed into heavenly bodies that will never die, then at last the Scriptures will come true: "Death is swallowed up in victory.
  • 55.
  • O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?"
  • 56.
  • For sin is the sting that results in death, and the law gives sin its power.
  • 57.
  • How we thank God, who gives us victory over sin and death through Jesus Christ our Lord!
  • 58.
  • So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and steady, always enthusiastic about the Lord's work, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Atheists, Faith, and Positivism

Atheism vs Theism. I think that every Christian, if honest with themselves, will admit to questioning which side of that argument they are truly on, and in times of great distress may have even began leaning to a godless world as making the most sense. I myself have had times when God seemed not just distant, but void and imaginary. Yet, even in times when I felt completely isolated, completely lost, atheism was a leap of faith I could not make. I knew that no matter how difficult my life or circumstances get, God cannot be discounted due to human suffering. An alternate title for this post could be "Why I am not an atheist", and I am going to give my reasons why.

Atheistic belief is built upon the contention that if the supernatural is not personally revealed, that it must not exist. In a broader sense, this is called positivism, the belief that we as humans should only believe what can be commonly observed, documented, and proven via scientific method. In other words, the supernatural world is considered subject to current scientific knowledge. However, I argue the opposite, that it transcends science. Just a few hundred years ago, concepts such as radio waves were inconceivable. Each day hundreds of songs, TV shows, and wifi connections pass by and through us in the form of eletromagnetic radiation. Yet we are oblivious. Why? Because, biologically we don't have the proper means of perception. Unless you have a piece of equipment tuned to detect these emissions, in and of your natural self you would never detect them. We do not have the means to devise a scientific experiment that can access and ascertain the supernatural.

Common atheistic thought requires labeling every supernatural encounter, every interaction with the divine ever encountered by humans to have been the result of either delusion, insanity, or active deceit. Atheists contend that believing anything on faith is a sign of flawed logic and truly believe that they have transcended faith.

I find this is a fundamental error. It is the pinnacle of arrogance to assume that mankind, with its limited senses, resources, and perception can make such a strong universal statement as to assume that nothing beyond our current understanding is possible, to project ourselves as ultimate arbiters of truth. How can a finite being seriously consider itself a judge of the infinite? Imagine trying to explain calculus to an ant. It would be beyond their understanding. Could an intellectually limited being like an ant declare calculus didn't exist just because it can't comprehend it? To me, this is where the faith of an atheist enters in. It is by faith that any universal statement is believed. Furthermore, faith is required to believe that incomplete theories such as evolution will be fully proven in years to come. Abiogenesis, complex biochemistry such as blood clotting, immune systems, and DNA replication/repair are all areas where no clear mechanism has been shown by evolutionists. They have rough sketches, but nothing more. Atheists BELIEVE that they will be found with time, but again, that is a presumption taken on faith. This world we are all experiencing is endlessly complex and convoluted, with even the most cogent logic leaving many areas of gray. There is so much that we simply cannot nail down, cannot limit into a prescribed box for us to take belief on faith out of the mix.

Ultimately, I know that regardless of who is right, I'll be OK. Should God prove to be real, I believe that I would be justified to an eternal existence with him through my faith in Christ. Should God not exist, when I die I will not spend even one millisecond disappointed or betrayed as I won't exist long enough after expiring to comprehend I didn't "pass through" to the other side. In a non-fatalistic way, I look forward to death as I am quite curious as to what truth will be revealed. Pascal summed it up well with his famous wager; I have everything to gain and nothing to lose.