Thoughts by the Gravesite

It was the evening before my wedding. My groomsmen were wrestling about the house and I sat on the large comfy couch laughing and texting a few last-minute arrangements to Kamron my best man. I was beginning to feel a bit nervous for the monumental event the next day, but haing my friends around made it more bearable. Momentarily, one of my groomsmen named Randy walked in and motioned for me to follow him out. "Moses, I don't know how to say this. Elliott has died." 

The first of my three summers working at camp was a radical experience. Everything was new, I had never worked or even attended summer camp before this time. Being in Michigan, I knew a handful of people but quickly made many new friends. As teen camp rolled around, I walked past a large grass field and saw a boy playing soccer. He was good. Precise foot work, quick skill, his talent was noticed instantly even from across the field. My friend Sergio (one of those guys who knows everyone and their great aunt) was standing next to me and said, “Yeah, that's Elliott, Elliott Ranzinger.” What a guy, the world is small, Elliott’s older brother had gone to my high school. As it turns out, the next summer rolled around and the girl that caught my eye (now my wife) was rooming with Elliott’s sister. They were best friends, and ultimately his sister was the maid of honor at my wedding. There are people who you meet once and never forget, that was Elliott.

I went to a small college near Chattanooga Tennessee. My senior year, he came to campus. We didn’t get to hangout much, but seeing him was always a joy. On a number of occasions, I would come to breakfast early in the morning, early being 7:30 a.m. I would see him eating by a window. After sitting down and chatting, I realized he was probably trying to have a nice meal with the young lady in front of him. But he was always gracious enough to hear me out and let me eat with him. Making time for a conversation ahead of a romantic pursuit says a lot about character.

At his memorial service, the pastor read from Elliott’s journal. He wrote,  “If we have not surrendered our lives to God and given Him control of our lives, the storm will follow us everywhere and will affect those around us. We can run from God, but we can’t hide from Him. Follow His call Elliott, and you will be truly happy and fulfilled.” Elliott embodied the idea that fulfillment does not come from the finite pursuits of life. The ultimate form of fulfilment comes from understanding and accepting the eternal. The eternal being the plans and purpose God destined for us to fulfill. There is a depth and fulfillment that comes from God guiding and controlling our lives. This is a deep and lasting relationship. Elliott knew about genuine relationships, he constantly inspired others through them.

The dripping rain provided a serene feeling as I sat next to his grave yesterday. It’s weird how rain, though gloomy and somewhat depressing can bring so much life. I sat under a tree that had started to bloom. White petals blanketed the green grass. Today would have been his birthday. I treasure the memories I have of him, his life, his words. His words inspire me to this day. Leaving his grave site, I was sad but reflective. The moment seemed to remind me, “Follow His call Moses, and you will be truly happy and fulfilled.”