Blaire - A Warrior Called Home
by Robert West
Baby boy to troubled teen, to confused adult and the years in between
Lord, You had Your perfect plan, to make our son a righteous man
A cocoon transformed, emerged anew, and dedicated to serving You
In humble submission to You above, to Your Law, and to Your Love
Rewarded now, this obedient one, Glory to You, Thy Will Be Done
Eternal life through Faith we cling; by Your Grace, our God, our King
PROLOGUE
Early on, it was obvious that Blaire was special. Even as a small boy, Blaire exhibited a high degree of sympathetic concern for the wellbeing of others …he cared, he helped, and he was incredibly charitable. The grade school years were difficult for Blaire, although he was perfectly capable of grade level work, his ability to succeed was relentlessly overshadowed by a perpetual “high performance” energy level that challenged the most patient of teachers. The school’s diagnosis was “Hyper-active” (in today’s terminology, Attention Deficit Disorder [ADD]), and they recommended treating Blaire with Ritalin, but the drug was relatively new and little was known about it at the time, so we declined.
By age 14, the system had relegated Blaire to a remedial school, and it was clear that there were forces at work that defied restraint. The tighter our control, the greater his rebellion, until finally, at 14½, Blaire left home for good. For the subsequent 23 years, he wandered aimlessly in and out of our lives despite our many attempts to help him assimilate. Blaire would disappear for many years at a time, but the steady stream of law enforcement inquiries let us know that he was alive and what part of the country he had last visited. 1997 was the last Christmas we shared with Blaire, and we did not hear from him – or see him until springtime of 2003.
Diane and I received word that Blaire had visited his maternal grandmother in our old California neighborhood, and that he was looking for us. He had gotten married and had a child, and he wanted to introduce his new family to us, but vacation time from work had run out and time constraints demanded that they return to their home in Iowa. Blaire and his wife, Wettyna (pronounced Bettina), had been visiting her relatives in southern California, and they wanted to surprise us by just dropping in. It was much later that year, October 2003, at the christening of their baby girl, Sophia Diane that we finally got together, unaware that it would be our final visit with him.
The occasion was joyous for all of us; we loved getting to know little Sophia, Wettyna, and her entire family, but it was a bittersweet reunion at best. Blaire reported to me that he was still routinely at odds with the authorities, and that he was uncontrollably addicted (my words, not Blaire’s) to illegal drugs and these two factors were threatening his marriage and parental status. The thought of him showing the track marks on his arms to me (he did not show them to his mother) makes me well-up to this moment. My memories of Blaire after he reached the age of about twelve involve him being in continuous and varying degrees of distress, and me feeling the frustration of thinking that I could save him from drowning if only I had a larger life ring, or a longer rope. Do you know that you cannot force a 10-year-old child to go for counseling if he does not want to go?
We kept in touch with Wettyna during the remaining months of 2003, and by Christmastime, things had worsened. Blaire had lost his job, was in and out of county jail, and Wettyna was planning to divorce him. He spent the entire year of 2004 in county lockup until being transferred to a state-run, “maximum security” facility (for fighting with another inmate), to serve his final six months.
On Tuesday, May 17, 2005 at one-thirty in the afternoon Pacific time, Diane and I returned home from a trip to the grocery store and found the red “missed call” light on our answer machine blinking. The voice was that of a staff-member for the Iowa State Penitentiary System at Anamosa asking us to call the number if we were Blaire’s parents. Wettyna had gone out of town for the day and someone needed to be notified that our precious son had passed away. We spent the remainder of that day preparing to travel to Iowa to attend our son’s funeral.
THE FLIGHT
It was Wednesday, May 18, 2005, and our plane, filled to capacity, seemed to take forever getting off the ground. Excessive turbulence and the fact that we were going to bury our 37-year-old son made for an extremely rough flight to Des Moines. The previous afternoon had brought the phone call from the Iowa State Prison authorities advising us that Blaire had died in his cell and that his body was being sent to the State of Iowa Medical Examiner’s Office in Des Moines. This is where the responsibility to conduct and oversee all cases of suspicious and unattended deaths were sent for examination and autopsy. We knew very little about our son’s adult life, except that he had made a series of wrong choices that culminated in the unfortunate, regrettable circumstance, incarceration.
ARRIVING IN IOWA
Our in-laws met us at the Des Moines airport and drove us to their home, two hours away, where we were treated like royalty. We had met Wettyna’s parents, Nelson and Rosario, her sister and brother-in-law, Gabriela and Roberto, a little more than one year earlier at the christening of our beautiful, one-year old at the time, granddaughter, Sophia Diane, along with many of Wettyna’s aunts, uncles and cousins. We had not had much of a chance to get to know our new extended family then, because of our limited time together and a language barrier. They were all from Guadalajara, Mexico, and had as little English as we had Spanish. The heartbreak of the occasion, however, did much to diminish the communication handicap because, “heart speaks to heart”.
Diane and I, along with Wettyna and her family, were to view Blaire’s body at the funeral home the next day at 2 p.m., and we were overrun with anxiety for the occasion. We did not think that we would be able to survive the finality of the moment that would make this horrible nightmare become an undeniable reality. Staying up nearly all night did nothing to stave off the inevitable, and with dawn’s light came the weight of our mission. Briefly, we would find limited emotional relief while attempting to console one another, but as the “hour” grew ever closer, it became increasingly difficult to remember that “…He would grant us, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit” (Ephesians 3:16).
PASTOR GARY
Thursday was upon us and the morning hours, punctuated by the sobs of desperation, passed by unsympathetically. With the noon hour, came a plaintive knock at the door, and a messenger delivered the first of many blessings that were to come. The stranger introduced himself, saying, “I am Pastor Gary Smith from a local Church, and I have a jail ministry through which I had the pleasure to meet and get to know, Blaire.” He wept as he went on, saying, “I loved Blaire as if he were my own flesh and blood and, as such, I have lost a son here, too. Blaire was truly a changed man and it is no exaggeration when I say that he was, Christlike.” Raised with a strong background in Scripture, Blaire always professed having a personal relationship with Jesus, although we never really saw in his eyes that tranquil reflection of humility that accompanies “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7).
Matthew 5:4 tells us, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted”, and illuminates God’s mercy in sending Pastor Gary at a time when we felt that we could bear no more. During the next few hours, as Pastor Gary witnessed, we heard story after uplifting story about the man whom Blaire had become during his final year here on earth. Wonderful stories about this dedicated servant who had fully committed himself to spreading God’s word and sharing the glorious message of salvation through faith in Jesus Christ, with his fellow inmates.
Pastor Gary told us that he personally knew of between thirty and forty men whom God had used Blaire to lead to their salvation, adding, “Some are back in society now and are continuing a holy walk.” Pastor Gary shared with us that Blaire had come to him months earlier, while at Wapello County Jail, and requested an opportunity to speak to the men during the weekly services. Pastor said that he had agreed to allow Blaire an opportunity to speak during the upcoming service, and Blaire had made such an impact on everyone that the twenty-minute timeslot became a permanent addition to the Sunday schedule.
Pastor Gary said that, “Blaire was like a magnet to the men and whenever he would walk into the room, they would crowd around him. He was holding bible study classes during the week and would prepare his own sermons for the weekly service, and …his sermons were as good as any that I have ever prepared and given.” Pastor added, “Blaire was even ministering to me” and he went on to say, “Blaire’s work on the inside was so successful because he had the respect of these men, and I firmly believe that God shaped Blaire’s life for this purpose, according to His divine plan.”
Next, Pastor Gary told us something that was truly astounding regarding Blaire’s plan for the future. He said, “Blaire had decided to join me in the prison ministry when he got released later this year, and he had begun preparing himself for that moment. Blaire had already finished his first correspondence course, receiving a 97% grade, and our church was planning to sponsor him at seminary to complete his formal training because, you see, Blaire had what it takes …genuine love for these men.”
These stories about our son described a man that we did not have the pleasure, or honor, to know, but we would have loved to have fellowshipped with him. Pastor Gary made it clear to us that Blaire’s work reflected and glorified the Lord, and that he had finally gotten it right this time. For Blaire, it was obviously all about Jesus Christ, and I say this because Blaire had not told anyone of these things, not even Wettyna. Every visitor’s day, Wettyna and Sophia visited with Blaire, including the Sunday before he died, and yet, she had no knowledge of his work with the inmates, or his plan to enter the ministry. The old Blaire would have attempted to use these facts to receive absolution.
THE VIEWING
Pastor Gary went with us to the funeral home. Diane and I will never forget that long walk through the parking lot and down the hallway leading to the doors behind which our baby boy lay. The moment was at hand and our fears grew with each beat of our broken hearts; would we be able to follow through with this or would we simply fall to the floor at first sight of our son and beg God to take us, too? Why did this happen, how could he really be gone, and how could his mother and I be expected to endure this crushing pain? Philippians 4:13 tells us “…that we can do all things through Him who strengthens us.”
The double doors opened before us, and there, just thirty feet away was one of our life’s most wonderful treasures. Miraculously, God’s mercy embraced us once again as the Holy Spirit lifted us under our elbows and it seemed as though we traversed the distance instantly and effortlessly to his side. Diane and I will remain forever grateful to the Lord for His assurance that Blaire is sheltered safe and at rest in His loving arms. We know this to be true because his sweet countenance was as if he looked up and saw Jesus, smiled, and walked out of his body and went home to be with Him forever.
It was obvious that Blaire had been bodybuilding, and the transformation was extreme. His suit strained to contain massive biceps, a barrel chest, and huge thigh muscles. This was not the scrawny kid of nineteen months ago at the christening. He was warm and radiant looking, and that expression suggesting the onset of a smile generated great comfort for us. As we stood there transfixed, God’s compassion for us made the peace in that room palpable.
ANAMOSA VISIT
Friday’s agenda centered on our trip to Anamosa, Iowa State Penitentiary, to talk to the Warden, the Chief Physician who had personally performed heroics on Blaire’s body in an attempt to revive him, several members of the prison’s staff, and two surprise individuals who were hoping to talk with us. It was a sunny day and the 150-mile drive to Anamosa was a calm, uneventful journey. The Anamosa facility was huge, beautiful, and its appearance was that of an old Victorian castle, complete with spires and stone lions guarding the entrance. Just inside, we found the office of the Warden, Mr. John Ault.
Physically, the Warden was a large man with a kind face who reminded us of the movie actor, Brian Dennehy. He invited us in and introduced himself, and the doctor. Then he offered us a seat and began by saying, “I never met your son, but in here, that is a good thing since I only meet the trouble makers. I can tell you, however, that by the things I’ve learned about your son in the last three days from my staff, Blaire was doing very well, and on track for release soon this year.” Continuing, he said, “I must say there are quite a few people here that are very upset by your son’s death, and I have had to call special counselors in and make them available to speak with both staff members and inmates who are not doing very well.” “Nothing like this has ever happened at this facility before.”
The Warden went on to say, “We have scheduled a special memorial service for inmates and staff members on Monday, and there is something else; two inmates have asked to speak with you. Although inmate/family meetings have never been permitted in the entire history of the Iowa State Penal System, I am going to allow it this time; that is if you are willing to meet with them.” Diane and I replied that we were grateful for the opportunity and very much wanted to talk to everyone who knew Blaire, and was willing to share the experiences they had with him. The Warden said, “I don’t know who will do the most good for the other, you folks or the inmates, but one of them is suffering from the notion that he could have done more to save your son’s life.”
The doctor then asked if he could share with us, his attempt to revive Blaire, and of course, we wanted to hear everything. He said, “When the call for help came, staff members and I were at Blaire’s side within three minutes or less, and I began CPR on him immediately. We worked continuously for thirty minutes and exhausted every resource, including the paddles, to no avail. There was simply nothing that could be done for him …I’m sorry to say that he was already gone.” The doctor then informed us that the preliminary autopsy results had come back, “Cause of death – Unknown.” The doctor said that he was surprised at the result because he expected the report to point to Blaire’s heart. He said, “The autopsy was a “thoroughly invasive” procedure that inspected all vital organs, including the brain, and no abnormalities were found. No enlarged heart, his lungs were clear and everything else looked normal for a man his age.”
The doctor said that the reason for his expectation regarding Blaire’s heart was that, just prior to his death, Blaire had returned from his daily physical fitness workout. Those who were there during the exercise session said, “Blaire’s workout was unusually vigorous”, and when they asked him about it, Blaire told them that he wanted to look good for his wife and baby girl when he got out soon. That knowledge caused Diane and me to see the logic in suspecting that Blaire may have overtaxed his heart, but we were told that the autopsy would have revealed telltale signs to confirm it if that were the case. With that explanation, we expressed our appreciation for their sincerity and let them know that they had allayed any concerns that we may have had regarding the accuracy of the circumstances on that day. Our meeting concluded and Blaire’s counselor was waiting in the hall to escort us to the conference room where we were to meet with Blaire’s two friends.
THE INMATES
Just inside the conference room, we saw two young men dressed in jail fatigues, seated at the far end of the table; they immediately rose and crossed the room to greet us. They were both well groomed, good looking, big men with friendly, but somber expressions on their faces. Everyone introduced themselves with the customary opening handshakes, but the sadness in their eyes demanded the ensuing hugs of reassurance that we all desperately needed. Wettyna, Diane, and I sat at one end of the conference table with Jeremy and Jerry, and the counselor sat alone, quietly, at the other.
Jeremy, the younger appearing and huskier of the two men spoke first. “Blaire was the kind of guy that was always there for everybody and he definitely made a difference in the lives of those around him.” He said that, “A lot of tough times happen to the people in here and Blaire was always the first to get to whoever needed help. My own situation is a good example of how Blaire would, somehow, find out about a brother in need, and step in at the right time to give support whenever things got unbearable.”
He said, “My wife was divorcing me at the time and I had become very depressed over the situation …to the point of just giving up”. Jeremy never sobbed, but tears skipped down his cheeks, falling onto his colorfully tattooed forearms, the entire time that he spoke to us. He went on to say, “Blaire led me to the Lord and that gave me a purpose to go on living. Blaire was that way with everyone; he started every day by seeking out the new guys, and he was very good at getting through to them. Understand that it’s not easy to approach some of these guys and offer advice to them.” Continuing, he said, “Blaire would find the “perfect” verse in the Bible, copy it down onto a little piece of paper, fold it up, and then walk up and hand it off to them. Blaire connected with most of them, and they would eventually come to him to find out more.”
Then Jeremy finished by telling us, “I’m twenty-four and let’s face it, I’m in here for life, so I’m never getting out, but I just wanted to tell you about the kind of person that Blaire was and get the chance to say how much I will miss him.” We thanked Jeremy for his heartfelt comments and said that we miss Blaire too, and then we turned our attentions to Jerry. Earlier on, during the “getting acquainted” portion of our conversation with these men, it was established that they were both American-Indians, although they were not from the same tribe. Jerry was muscular like Jeremy, but taller, with chiseled features and sleeked back, coal-black hair.” Under one eye, we saw a tattoo of what appeared to be three descending “tear drops”. We later found out that these permanent marks could symbolize several different things in their world, all of which have a “sobering” significance.
Jerry began, telling us that, “There are adjustments to make when you get here at Anamosa, I sort of took Blaire under my wing when he first arrived, so I guess you could say that I knew Blaire better than anyone else in here. Our cells were next to each other and we were workout partners on the weights.” Then Jerry said, “We worked out the morning of the day that Blaire died, and Blaire’s workout was way more vigorous than it had ever been before …way more! Turning to Wettyna, Jerry said, “Blaire talked about you and your daughter all of the time and he really wanted to look good for you both. Anyhow, we returned to our cells afterwards, like usual, at eleven thirty for lock-down; Blaire didn’t have a cell-mate, so he was alone and seemed just fine at that time.”
Next, Jerry told us, “About ten minutes later, I was playing bones (dominos) with my cellie, but I interrupted the game to ask Blaire for a cup of coffee.” He said, “We’re not supposed to do this, but I would hang my cup around the wall between our cells and Blaire would fill it for me, he always had coffee in his cell. Anyhow, Blaire filled my cup like usual, and about twenty minutes after that, at 12-noon, it was time for everyone to come out of their cells for another activity. The cell doors opened and when I stepped out I saw Blaire lying beside his bed …he still had his earphones on. I ran to his side, checked for a pulse, and I swear I felt one.” As Jerry said this to us, he placed his thumb over the appropriate location on his wrist as if he was checking his own pulse.
Jerry continued, “I immediately called for help and staff got there within a couple of minutes, but I think that I am responsible for your son’s death because I waited for them to arrive instead of starting CPR right away, myself.” We pointed out to Jerry that when you use your thumb to take someone’s pulse, you could actually be detecting your own pulse instead. We told Jerry not to heap a burden such as that upon himself, and that we were comfortable in our belief that nothing could have been done to save Blaire. We shared our experience during our visit to view Blaire the day before, and assured both of them that we believe Blaire had completed the assignment that God had given him here on earth, and that little smile on Blaire’s face was because the last thing Blaire saw was Jesus, there to take him home. When God calls believers home, they are happy to go, (2 Corinthians 5:8). We thanked Jeremy and Jerry for their candor and willingness to share their stories with us, and we let them know how much it meant to us to have spent the time with them. We hugged a final hug and said goodbye, assuring them that they would both be in our prayers.
We were told about one last staff member, the man that gave us the news of Blaire’s death over the phone on Tuesday that wished to speak to us before we concluded our visit. He said that he did not know Blaire either, but that he wanted to meet with us because, “I make these phone calls to family and loved ones, but I never get to put a face with the voices on the other end”. He said how very glad he was to meet us, and he expressed much concern for Wettyna because of what she would face in the days and months ahead. He was glad to hear that she had family nearby and Pastor Gary to lean on during the rough moments to come. We were handed two boxes containing Blaire’s belongings, and began our drive back.
BLAIRE’S BELONGINGS
It was late afternoon and the mile markers seemed to pass by in slow motion. We were exhausted from processing the Anamosa experiences that left our minds reeling; it was a powerful time. Wettyna sat alone in the back seat with the two boxes that likely contained answers to some of our questions regarding the person that Blaire had become in those final months. For the first few miles, Wettyna only glanced at the cartons while emotionally preparing herself to see and hold the possessions of the first true love of her life. Maybe as many as twenty minutes passed before Wettyna rallied enough to examine their contents, and they revealed more evidence to confirm the depth of Blaire’s dedication to serving the Lord. There were Christian books on the message of God’s Word, and Blaire’s personal Bible that was worn and tattered with the leaf edges showing a patina that accompanies repeated, extensive, and exhaustive use. Inside was a wealth of both single and double underlined passages, highlighted verses, and notes in the margins with multiple cross-references on virtually every page of both the old and new testament sections. Pastor Gary would later identify this very same Bible as the one he had given to Blaire, brand new, just one year before.
Among the treasures was the certificate of completion for the correspondence course that Pastor Gary had mentioned. It indicated that Blaire had passed the course and received a 97% score. This amazed us because Blaire had never gotten an “A” in any class in his entire life, except maybe for gym. We all briefly laughed at that thought, taking advantage of the opportunity for some greatly needed comic relief, but sleep deprivation and the day’s agenda left Wettyna weary to her soul, and she fell into a deep sleep for the remaining two and one-half hour drive home.
BETTY
We arrived back at the house around 7:30 p.m. where our daughter, Betty, was anxious to see us and hear everything that had happened up until then. Betty had flown in earlier that afternoon, her plane arrived in Des Moines at 5:00 p.m., and Wettyna’s family had graciously made another 240-mile round trip to the airport since it was in the opposite direction from Anamosa. Each new encounter and exchange with a close friend or family member brought renewed grief and pain coursing to the surface as if our flesh was tearing away, exposing the underlying nerve endings. This encounter with Blaire’s baby sister was severe.
THE SERVICE
Blaire’s service was to commence at 3:00 p.m. on Saturday, and we had no idea of whom, or how many would attend, but Pastor Gary had asked us to arrive a little early because someone that Blaire had led to the Lord wanted to share his heart with us. We were the first to arrive, getting there around two o’clock, and funeral home staff members greeted us at the door and showed us to a fairly large chapel room, tastefully adorned with a limited number of beautiful floral sprays surrounding the table where the urn containing Blaire’s ashes lay. Sprays were kept at a minimum because we had set up a trust fund “in lieu of flowers” for Blaire’s baby girl, little Sophia Diane. Soft organ music was playing as a prelude and the chapel’s ambience was warm and peaceful.
The Funeral Director had asked us about music selections that we wanted to hear during the service and having no idea of Blaire’s preferences, we asked Pastor Gary for his guidance, and he suggested that Blaire would have liked “The Wind Beneath My Wings.” Both the lead Pastor at the Church and Pastor Gary were going to speak, and the funeral director suggested that this song play in between the two pastor’s presentations …and we agreed.
Pastor Gary arrived and introduced us to a clean-cut, young, but “seasoned” looking man and his girl friend. This man said that Blaire had befriended him when he was in the Wapello County Jail, and that Blaire had helped him turn his life around by leading him to the Lord. He said, “I will never forget Blaire for the positive influence that he had on me at a time when I was lost and very down.” Testimonials like this about Blaire were anything but new to us by this time, but they never ceased to amaze and comfort us with the knowledge that the Holy Spirit is awesome and very much alive in the lives of these witnesses …ours as well.
The Head Pastor took the podium and quiet fell upon the congregation, which now numbered between seventy-five and one-hundred. He began by saying that, “Blaire had never attended our church, but we are proud to claim him for our own.” Pastor spoke pretty much in generalities, admitting that he did not really know Blaire personally, and as such, he would “reserve the specifics for Pastor Gary.” The Pastor concluded with a prayer for all concerned parties and then our music selection began to play.
We had heard “The Wind Beneath My Wings” many times before, but never really paid close attention to the lyrics like we were doing now, and the words truly befit Blaire’s life. “Triumph over Weakness, Emergence from the Shadows, God over Self, Conviction over Doubt, and All of the Glory to Jesus…The Wind Beneath Blaire’s Wings!” This song was yet another sign that the Holy Spirit never stops working in our lives and God is in control; a message that Blaire would have been quick to point out! As the song concluded, Pastor Gary took his place at the microphone and recounted some of the wonderful stories about Blaire that he had lovingly shared with us over the past two days.
The overall focus of Pastor Gary’s message was, as Blaire would have wanted it to be, centered on Jesus Christ instead of him. Pastor Gary was infinitely clear and direct in fortifying the message of Faith for those who believe, and an illumination of Hope for those who have not yet opened their hearts to Our Lord and Savior, The Way, The Truth and The Light. At the conclusion, Pastor Gary called for everyone to stand, hold hands in an unending “circle of prayer”, and repeat after him, a beautiful prayer of personal dedication to the acceptance of the Holy Spirit into our hearts, belief in the Son Of God whose sacrifice is our Deliverance, and the Glorification of the Almighty God – Amen. It was a fitting tribute to A Warrior Called Home!
We spoke with the Head Pastor afterwards and told him that we understood how difficult it must be to speak about someone in this situation without knowing the departed or his or her family, and he replied, “It is never difficult when I know that the person was saved!”
THE EAGLE
With the service concluded, everyone began slowly filing out, passing Wettyna, her family members, Betty and us. Each person stopped briefly with each of us to offer a hug of sympathetic understanding and to whisper their private condolences before moving on and exiting to the parking lot where another “sign” presented itself to this freshly affirmed flock. At the far end of the parking area, about 150 yards away, stood a lone pine tree towering over its surroundings, and high above the tree was a large majestic eagle, gliding in a big circle as if it were tethered there with the “wind beneath its wings”. Thank You, Jesus.
THE RECEPTION
Wettyna’s Mom and Dad were hosting a wake at their home after the service and many planned to attend in order to continue visiting, sharing, and grieving with us, and with each other. During the gathering, person after person sought us out, individually, to cite a wonderful attribute that Blaire had, to share a story, or to express how losing Blaire has left a gaping hole in their world. In the end, it was obvious and undeniable that Blaire had touched a great many lives while attending the work of the Lord and submitting to God’s will.
HEADING HOME
Betty, Gabriela, and Diane and I were all scheduled to catch flights headed for our respective homes on Sunday afternoon. We all decided to go in one trip so Wettyna’s parents would only need to make one trip to Des Moines. Gabriela’s flight was the earliest at 2:25 p.m., our connecting flight to Minneapolis was at 5:40 p.m., and Betty said that her flight was later as well, so we were on the road and on schedule to get Gabby to the airport the prescribed “two-hours” early. About halfway there, we asked Betty what time her flight was and after checking her ticket she said, “says here 5:40”. That was the same time as our departure, so we asked, “What airline and flight number are you on? Betty said, “Northwest – Flight No. 2120.” We were on the same connecting flight even though we were ultimately headed to different parts of the country and had booked our flights separately, unaware of the others arrangements. Further examination disclosed that our seats were adjacent, although the airline would not have known to group our seats, since our last names are different. Coincidence, maybe, but additional circumstances that are amazing were yet to come.
The Des Moines airport is relatively large and sprawling, yet it turned out that Gabriela’s flight was on the same concourse and within a few gates of ours, so we were able to visit until the last minute. While the four of us were standing there together, a little boy, about two or three-years old, broke away from his mother and took off running. She hurried after him calling, “Blaire, Blaire come back here!” It is safe to say that the name “Blaire” is not common and we have never personally known anyone else with that name …but there is even more...
On the drive home from the airport, Diane said, “The devil is messing with me right now and every time he does, the Holy Spirit does something to get my attention and snap me back. I wonder what sign I’ll be given this time.” Just as she finished talking, we came out of a heavily forested section of the highway where the trees were blocking our view of the setting sun. There had been a rainstorm and the clouds had just broken, allowing the sun’s rays to shine through. Instantly, everything was a bright shimmering gold, not silver, but gold – and the beams of light flooding down were the richest golden color that either of us could ever remember seeing. Almost automatically as if rehearsed, Diane said, “There you go!” Isn’t God awesome!
The days since Blaire’s death have been difficult, some worse than others, but we find that the more we share the story of his life with others, the more obvious it becomes that we have a small role in the final chapter of this warrior’s life; the telling of the story, according to God’s Divine Plan. The first to hear the account of Blaire’s changed life was a pastor friend of more than thirty years who resides in northern California. Over the years, Pastor Thomas had remained aware of the many trials through our phone conversations and e-mails seeking his wise counsel and prayers.
After hearing the account of Blaire’s transformation for the Lord, Pastor Thomas, moved to tears said, “Listening to Blaire’s story reminds me of an issue that I need to work on.” He said, “At times in my life, my ego has gotten in the way, causing me to lose focus, and this message about Blaire achieving the state of mind that “It’s all about the Lord” is timely. I have recently been struggling because of my own personal circumstances, and hearing these things about Blaire have helped to renew my resolve.” Pastor Thomas’ reaction to this story was a blessing for us and we know that Blaire would have felt blessed, as well.
There are two local pastors among the two-hundred, or so, friends, family members and complete strangers, in addition to Pastor Jerry Conklin at Lewis and Clark Bible Church (LCBC) where Diane and I attend, who have heard Blaire’s story. Pastor Jerry listened intently to every word of the seventy-five minute verbal account, and after a speechless moment, he said, “I had no idea exactly where this story was going when you began, but I wish that I had a tape recorder running while you told it! There are so many people, including the entire LCBC congregation that I would have loved to share it with.” Blaire’s story is an encouraging one, and because the Lord has placed it on our hearts, Diane and I are answering the call to document it.
Pastor Robles commented, saying how grateful he was to hear such an uplifting story. He said, “It isn’t very often that you get the opportunity to hear a story like this one, and hardly ever from a source outside of your own church.” Pastor Robles, too, requested a copy of Blaire’s written biography, when completed.
Then, there is Pastor Don who actually became visibly agitated in a state of excitement. He proclaimed, “Blaire was a “true warrior” for the Lord. You don’t hear stories about people doing these things anymore, like we used to.” He expounded saying, “Folks today have pretty much grown comfortable with their own salvation and don’t care about the next guy’s situation. They sit complacently in their homes and figure somebody else should get the Word out. Most churches reflect the community instead of it being the other way around, what with their relaxed moral and ethical codes, toned down messages about God’s Word which, by the way, just happens to be Law!”
Going on, Pastor Don said, “Too many church leaders are more interested in membership numbers, a polite way of saying money, than they are in whether or not they perform according to the solemn covenant they made with God when they promised to do His Will. They are afraid that if they lay it on the line to their congregations, people will stop coming and that threatens their self-preservation instincts. Simply put, church leaders don’t expect their members to give it over to the Lord because the leaders themselves don’t turn it over to Him!” He took a breath, then, “They know that every time any of us try to manage things on our own, everything gets all fouled-up, but their faith isn’t strong enough to trust in Him, so they live by instinct …how sad is that?”
EPILOGUE
According to His perfect plan, when God calls us to serve Him, He often begins by securing our undivided attention. We are all unique, so the specific events that He sets into motion are tailor-made for each individual. With some, He first breaks them in order to draw them closer to Himself, as is demonstrated in the life of the Apostle Paul (formerly Saul). Here, Jesus met Paul on the road to Damascus and struck him blind to accomplish God’s purpose, and although this condition lasted for only three days (Acts 9:7-9); it worked to change the character of Paul, permanently!
Blaire’s circumstances were nothing compared to those of the Apostle Paul, but it was obvious that God was in control of our son’s life. God had determined the factors surrounding Blaire’s journey and placed him in that humbled setting, in front of those lost souls, in order to accomplish His Will, and when God’s Will was fulfilled, He took Blaire home to be with Him. The mystery of the Master is evident in His ability to effortlessly plan, orchestrate and execute, with impeccable timing, myriads of minutia in such perfect harmony as to eliminate the possibility of random happenstance or mere coincidence.
Our most Gracious Heavenly Father, thank You for the ultimate Joy of knowing You and Your beloved Son, and for Your Will that Diane and I would have hearts to serve only You. Thank You for the Joy of parenthood and for the temporary loan of three beautiful souls to love, cherish and care for in their youth, and beyond. I thank You for my wife, Diane, and Your influence, through her, to bring our children and me to the state of being in Your Grace. Thank You for Your mercy and the comfort of knowing that, in the end, Blaire was the product of Your Will; and that his service would be for Your good pleasure, and our edification. I pray this in the name of Your Precious Son, Jesus Christ, Amen.
Used with Permission From Robert West.
