why i do what I do
A couple of weeks ago I had the privilege and honor to sing at Malachi Smith's memorial service. Though I hadn't kept in touch with Wes for years, their story just gripped me. Malachi was 41 months old when he went to be with Jesus, having lost his earthly battle with leukemia. He was diagnosed at 14 months. He had been in remission twice, even having a bone marrow transplant about 6 months ago. In October it was confirmed the cancer had returned, and within a couple of weeks Malachi had left our world. So much to deal with during such a short life.
Now, one thing I have learned in the past couple of years is that no matter how much you think you can relate to a situation, everyone grieves differently. Even under similar circumstances. So I'm done saying, "I know how you feel." I'm not sure that is really possible anymore.
That said, I have experienced nothing even remotely close to what the Smiths have so I've never even pretended to mildly understand. I can try and imagine myself in a similar circumstance, but your imagination only takes you so far, and in the end you know that your imagination is fiction. The Smiths ARE LIVING THIS.
Rachel Smith has done a fantastic job documenting their journey on a CaringBridge.org blog. The blog has come to an end, and I believe she will be publishing it one day. She is my kind of blogger: wordy, lengthy, detailed. All the questions (and then some) I would never have the opportunity to ask (or even dare to) were answered through these blog posts. Though we could never know exactly what goes through the heart and mind of one enduring an unimaginable trial, she did such a great job at sharing her thoughts and feelings that you felt like you were in the same room with them. You felt like you could truly observe how they dealt with this trial.
And shine they did.
I don't think anyone would have blamed them if they complained about how unfair this was. And while there were plenty of times where the pain, hurt, and unknown came through, something else ALWAYS came through.
Hope.
Rachel always wanted you to know that she and Wes completely trusted God. They wanted you to know that God is always in control. All. The. Time. Even though they didn't always know how they would make it, they knew they would, because they had a hope in Jesus. They trust in His proven faithfulness.
And that is what probably blew me away the most. While you got such an insight to their family, their plight, their struggles, their humanity... you could never leave without being encouraged that God was and is on His throne. They always want you to know it is ALL ABOUT JESUS and Him glorified. That has ministered to my own heart so much.
Still, this is not how we would have written the story. As parents, we are not supposed to bury our children. Certainly not so soon. This family is still hurting, mourning, and grieving. And will for years to come. Let's remember to pray for them.
During the last couple of weeks of Malachi's life I was religiously following the blog. And as the story gripped me more and more I went back and read through a couple months' worth of posts. During that time certain things would pop out at me and before I knew it, I had a song.
On the day Malachi went to be with Jesus, not knowing how it would be received (remember what I just said about grief), I prayed about it and decided to send the song to them. I told them I was sorry if my timing was horrible and that I had no clue how to respond. All I knew is that I wrote this song specifically for them, based on Rachel's blog.
A few days later I was invited to sing it at the memorial service. I was sandwiched in between Jubilant Sykes and Christian Ebner. Talk about me being out of my element and out of my league. But the honor and privilege of being asked to participate in such a special day... wow.
Of course, I sing, play, and write for God first. He is the Giver of what talents I have, and I want to use them for His glory. But He also receives glory and is pleased when we use our gifts to serve one another. So whenever someone is ministered to by my music, it's the icing on the cake.
The last blog post Rachel did on CaringBridge (after the memorial) included this:
My emotional breaking point in the service though was when Rick Horio sang his song that he wrote that was inspired by Malachi's life. It was titled Strong Enough and it just truly hit home to me, even though I had already heard the song a million times...it just truly has a special place in our hearts. The words are so utterly perfect and fitting to the way our hearts feel and ache at this time. So, a HUGE thanks to Rick for putting that together and for singing it at the memorial...what a blessing that was to our lives and it will be a blessing for many years to come!You never want to do things to expect a return, but it's such an encouragement to know when God has used you to touch the hearts and lives of others. This is how the church is supposed to work.
And in reality, they have already ministered to me way more than I ever could to them. When I left the memorial, I had some brief moments with Wes and Rachel. When I said, "I never met your son..." without even skipping a beat, Rachel said, "yet." Indeed. Heaven was on her mind. And if you weren't already thinking about it then, you were now.
I will meet Malachi one day (as well as one or two of my own children who I didn't get a chance to meet this side of Heaven). And when I meet them, I will be able to tell them in person how much they taught me, and ministered to me.
My name is Rick, and thanks for reading.
Photo: taken with my trusty camera phone, it's the first and probably only time I will ever share a stage at the same event with the great Jubilant Sykes.
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thoughts on life
