Last week was my spring break. And, might I just say, what a gorgeous spring we are having! I wake up every morning and take in a deep breath of God's awesomeness. I am definitely loving this fantastic weather. Anyways, spring break is supposed to be just that - a break. However, on Monday morning of my spring break, I was greeted with devastating news. My beloved high school math teacher, ATA Taekwondo instructor, mentor and friend was killed in a head-on collision on his way to school that morning.
At first, I was simply in shock. Actually, I think I stayed that way for quite a few days. I just couldn't believe that someone I was so close to for many years was just gone in the blink of an eye. I've lost many relatives before, unfortunately though, none I was terribly close to. I had known this man since I was seven years old, and I had shared countless memories with him through the years. He also had an incredibly sound faith that was evident to everyone around him. He was such a wonderful man, and I was simply stunned that he was gone. Ironically enough, I was planning on going to see him the next day at school and tell him I got into pharmacy school. I know that he knows now anyways, and he's always proud of me, but I was incredibly sad that I wouldn't get the chance to say that in person and that I was never able to really talk about faith with him - something I would have loved to have done.
I found out late Monday night that almost 200 current kids from my old high school had driven a half hour away to go to his house and visit his family and share memories and tears with them. Two hundred people may not be a lot to you - but in a town of about 4,000 with a high school teaching around 300 students per year - that's an incredible amount of people!! I had never been so proud to call myself an alumnus of that high school before (and I was already very proud before then). A memorial facebook page was created that had over 600 members by the end of the day, with a new post about him popping up literally every five to ten seconds. He left such an impact on the students he taught, the Taekwondo people he encountered, his church family, his regular family, and pretty much every person who had the privilege to know him even just a little bit.
On Thursday night, there was a visitation at a church in his hometown that I went to go to. A friend went with me, and we headed over at about five o'clock. I had never been to a visitation before, and I didn't know what to expect. But no one could have expected this. Over 1,000 people stood in line for over 2 hours just to say a few words to his wife who is now left to raise three incredibly gorgeous little girls on her own. My friend and I arrived around five thirty and it was almost eight o'clock before I got to talk to his wife. What an incredible woman! She was laughing with people about memories of her husband, comforting those who were crying, and being one of the greatest lights for God I'd ever seen. His whole family was like that! They kept saying things like, "God bless you," "he's with his Father," "we'll see him again someday," and even encouraging people to follow in faith. It was such a wonderful testimony to a wonderful man of God and his awesome family and their unshaken faith.
The funeral was the next day at the high school, and I was asked to be a part of a special presentation to his family during the funeral. He was a 6th degree black belt and Master instructor for ATA Taekwondo. This is an incredible acheivement, and to commemorate such a wonderful man, the ATA leaders presented his family with an additional Taekwondo promotion: a 7th degree black belt Senior Master. This is a title only 1% of the 1% of students who become black belts achieve. It was an incredible honor to be one of the black belts (I'm a second degree black belt) under him asked to present his family with this. We also did a "21 board break salute" in his honor, as well. Although it was really awkward to have a church service in a high school auditorium, it was so wonderful; I loved every second of it. A guesstimated amount of 600-800 people were in attendance, and they had to do a live feed to a different room because the auditorium couldn't hold everyone.
I'm pretty sure I cried through the whole service and for several hours afterwards, but I was left with one major thing at the end of it all: I want my life to say that. Even though my teacher's life was cut short, he was still an incredible light for God as well as a superb, loving father. I realize now more than ever that you never know when you're coming up to the end of your road. And there is only one thing that matters at the end of the day: God. Even in death, my teacher was a wonderful light for God. I want to be that light, too. When people look at my life, I don't want them to see me. I want them to see how much good God has done for me and how much good He can do for them, too. I don't want to sit on the sidelines anymore. I don't want to keep making excuses, saying I'll do something for God after such-and-such gets done or once I have such-and-such.
We can't do this on our own, it takes God and His mercy to do that, but what more could you want from life?! And someday, when we've had our fill of this world, and God calls us home, we will spend eternity with Him. Eternity. With the greatest thing in the universe. I have no excuses for not being someone after God's heart anymore. There were none to begin with.
My teacher and his beautiful family - you will be sorely missed, Mr. Menn.
God Bless!
ChristianKid
