I'll take that as a "Yes!"

“Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity.” 1 Timothy 4:12 NIV

September 11, 2009 Jordyn was “grounded”. She had missed a couple of assignments in a class and her grade reflected that. She had missed due to attending a concert or something. She had made up the work, but her grade had not been updated in one class, so she knew she would be coming home after a Hays High home football game. That night we hosted the dance team for dinner and the chaos and joy they brought. She even had a featured part in one of the dances they performed. It was a good night.

We got home and she ran straight to the computer. “Dad, do you want to check my grades?” Nope, already did that. She persisted. I remember thinking that there was no possibility that a teacher had updated the grade during a home football game, so we looked. Her grade was updated with no assignments missing. She was free and she knew it.

We will never forget the ensuing celebration that followed. She literally danced her way toward her room to get ready. She stopped long enough to look back at us beaming. “I’ll take that as a yes!”

Aly asked some questions shortly after she died. She wondered if we ever thought about what would have happened if we had said no. What if we made her stay home? How in the world did she find the one teacher she needed? Who had a laptop at a football game? How did she convince that teacher to update the grade during the game? Why did we agree to check her grades? We had already done that. Aly was 11 years old when she asked that question. We asked her what she thought the answer was. At 11 years old she said she thought it would not matter. She was convinced that her sister would have been leaving this world that night either way.

The first two weeks of September are some of the hardest days we face every year. I am writing this on September 6th and I am aware that 5 days from now will mark 13 years since we lost Jordyn. I know it’s coming every year. In a way, September 11th is no different that March 3rd or any other date on the calendar. She’s still gone no matter what day it is.

Today was supposed to be a normal day on the road for work. I had plans to head to Wichita. I knew it was going to be an out and back trip so it would be a long day, but I was ready. It is hard for me to leave the house during this time. Mary can cope without me being here, but I just don’t want to leave home during this time. I sort of want to barricade in.

My car intervened this morning. I had a flat tire. The tire shop does not open until 8:00 am so plans changed. Instead of Wichita, I picked a closer destination so I would not be running too late. During this time of year, I do not listen to slow music. I don’t even listen to worship music, it’s too slow and emotional and I don’t need more emotions right now. It’s straight up praise music or Van Halen. Neither worked this morning. I was a hot mess driving down the highway.

Once you knock on a few doors, things feel as normal as possible. Habits take over. I have learned in this job that I am going to have to talk about it. People ask about your kids. Sometimes I can steer the conversation away from sad topics. Sometimes not. She comes up. I knocked on doors for around 10 hours today. Every single person is saw today had lost a child. Every one.

I heard stories. I shared stories. I cried with one lady. I saw several strangers cry in front of a total stranger. I prayed with one. It became obvious pretty quickly that God wanted me to surrender the day. I cannot shy away from conversations that He plans. Once in a while He makes it so obvious that even I don’t miss it.

Today I ended up three hours away from where I planned. I was working older leads instead of brand new ones, which only means I had tried unsuccessfully to find these people before, in most cases multiple times. I “found” them today. Why? I have no answers to many of the questions I could concentrate on, but I do have one answer: my life is not about me.

My schedule got rearranged today. You can call it coincidence that I ended up talking about her all day. Can you call it divine intervention?

There are hard parts to your life, to everyone’s life. Are you willing to hand them to Him and let Him use them? I know it’s hard.

Challenge: Milestones suck sometimes. They mark time. They can mark pain. They can also mark the ways God can use a 16 year old kid to point people to Him. They can also remind you of the fantastic miracle we get to call our daughter. Her life was shorter, but she outlived me.

Rick Claiborn