The spring after Jack's accident, my childhood friend Brenda pulls into the parking lot of the small school where her husband is headmaster. She is going to deliver the monthly chapel message to the students. She has asked our permission to share about Jack's life and death, and how a perfectly imperfect little boy had a meaningful, trusting relationship with God.
A familiar Christian song plays on the radio as she pulls into the parking lot, and as she looks toward a tree on the grounds that she sees several times every day, she notices something she has never noticed before. A bald eagle has made a nest there. She takes a picture for me, thinking of course of Jack, our rare bird.
Gathering her purse and her keys, she listens more closely to the lyrics on the radio: “I will rise when He calls my name, no more sorrow, no more pain. I will rise, on eagles’ wings, before my God, fall on my knees, And Rise. I will rise.”
A rare bird and the healing words about the promise of heaven seem fitting as she walks into the building to share Jack’s story.