Jeffrey Reodica.

For a while, I didn't know what to feel when the news of your passing had...passed. Anger, frustration, sadness... All of which are God-given emotions. Anger is engineered into us: as a response mechanism to what we feel as injustice. (Whether something really *is unjust or not is another topic altogether.) Getting shot in the back sounds unjust to me, though. I was frustrated with the fact that you felt the need to be there in the first place. Sadness; that you were really gone physically from this world.

Christianity teaches forgiveness. "Turn the other cheek," as the saying goes. But it doesn't mean that we make ourselves doormats to others; it doesn't mean we let other take advantage. It means not to let the pain or anger or frustration of someone else overpower you -- like it did to the other person (temporarily or otherwise). Anger has turned to forgiveness in my mind. But as another saying goes, "No bad deed goes unpunished." Cops can't always be held blameless.

Forgiveness can be tough. But necessary to produce real humility.

...What were you doing there, on that fateful friday? We hear the bits and pieces: from the news, the papers, from the friend of a friend of a friend... and it all makes no sense. In the end, it means nothing: because you are gone.

I'm always reminded of my service. Of how half-assed it's been at times. ...What if the next person on the news is someone who was in my old households? Someone who I didn't call because of fear? Because I lacked faith that God might use my calling them to change their mind about coming (or returning) to the YFC community? If you were crazy-active in the community, Jeff: Would you have found it necessary to be there on that day? Would you have had the strength to tell your friends to "turn the other cheek?" If we had old-school households...if you had a household head willing to run them: would you find yourself in the company of willing vegance? Or even the double-life'd YFC's out there? [That's right: I'm calling you out, whoever you are. Not that any of you will ever see this, probably.]

Even though I'm still a 'baby'... "Chapter Head" is just a title; nothing more. We're all still running the family business together (because we are family, after all): the business of showing how good life can be -- living the life of Christ.

Frustration with my half-ass service... or my half-ass life: it means nothing. It does nothing: it only leads me to inaction. I know that your passing has refuelled many people with focus and passion for the service. Perhaps even endowed that sense of purpose-driven living for the first time. ...and that's how I know that God is already making GOOD out of seemingly bad circumstances. Frustration has turned to trust in God in my mind. Frustration is misplaced trust; full trust in anything other than God is misplaced.

Frustration can be tough. But necessary to produce real faith.

...I hate seeing people cry. It makes me angry and frustrated: especially with my closer friends because I feel so helpless. I want to make the heartache go away instantly, even though I know it's not possible.

...But don't let me stop you. Hold nothing back and let it out your emotions though. Bottling up feelings is plainly not healthy. God engineered them into us for a reason: to be felt.

God wants you to feel those emotions. Perhaps it will turn you closer to Him. Safe in His arms is the happiest place to be. Sadness has turned to joy in my mind. I'm safe in the knowledge of His presence.

Sadness can be tough. But necessary to know real joy when it happens.

Jeff: your passing has touched at least one man who barely even knew you. Hundreds. Or maybe even thousands, quite possibly. Make God shine His joyous, everlasting spotlight on you while you entertain Him... You are dearly missed.