Faith
Nothing in this life is permanent. Situations no matter how difficult or trying last forever, and people no matter how much you love them will ever escape this world alive. On September 11th at 5:25pm Kerby slipped away from this world, at home, surrounded by his family. Kerby’s long struggle with cancer ended on that day, but one could not say that cancer was victorious. What separated Kerby, what defined him, his life, and his day-to-day existence was his faith. Faith in God, faith in his family, faith in his friends was the core of what allowed Kerby to live and die with respect, dignity and an overwhelming belief that death was not the ending, but indeed a new beginning.
Faith was not a noun to Kerby, something that meant to simply believe. Faith was a verb, an action statement, calling out to be realized, to be acted upon. I can honestly say that I learned more about living from Kerby’s dying than I have in the previous 38 years. What I learned from was to have faith, to simplify, and to love. Kerby excelled in all of these. Even when cancer was taking away his strength, his energy and his life, he never once complained to me. When I asked him if he was in pain, his answer every single time was same…“I feel a little pressure.” When faced with daunting task of planning for a future that he would ultimately not be a part of, he had faith that God would provide, but also knew that did not mean sitting around and waiting for it to happen. When we would eat lunch together, his phone never stopped ringing. He always answered it as if the person on the other end was his closest friend, and always with a smile. These calls were supposed to be from other people calling to give him strength and solace, but I always got the feeling that the person on the other end of the line got an equal measure of what they gave. Kerby had a way of doing that, of turning the tables on you. Just when you thought you were the one providing a shoulder to cry, or laugh on you felt your emotional tanks being filled.
Above all I know that Kerby had faith in where he was going. It was that faith that gave him the strength to let go. He had faith that his place was with God, faith that his family would continue when he could not continue with them, faith that his friends would remember him and hold fast to the memories that they shared.
Kerby’s favorite Hymn was “How Sweet to die.” I think it is fitting and succinctly says what he would tell each of us about life if he had the chance to do so.
Farewell, vain world, I'm going home, My Savior bids me come
Sweet angels beckon from on high
Then, O how sweet to die
I'm glad that I am born to die, from grief my soul shall fly,
Sweet angles beckon from on high
Then, O how sweet to die
I'll praise my Savior while I've breath, I'll praise Him after death,
I'll praise His matchless name on high
Then, O how sweet to die
I soon shall pass this vale of death, when I shall lose my breath,
And then my happy soul shall fly,
Then, O how sweet to die.
Faith was not a noun to Kerby, something that meant to simply believe. Faith was a verb, an action statement, calling out to be realized, to be acted upon. I can honestly say that I learned more about living from Kerby’s dying than I have in the previous 38 years. What I learned from was to have faith, to simplify, and to love. Kerby excelled in all of these. Even when cancer was taking away his strength, his energy and his life, he never once complained to me. When I asked him if he was in pain, his answer every single time was same…“I feel a little pressure.” When faced with daunting task of planning for a future that he would ultimately not be a part of, he had faith that God would provide, but also knew that did not mean sitting around and waiting for it to happen. When we would eat lunch together, his phone never stopped ringing. He always answered it as if the person on the other end was his closest friend, and always with a smile. These calls were supposed to be from other people calling to give him strength and solace, but I always got the feeling that the person on the other end of the line got an equal measure of what they gave. Kerby had a way of doing that, of turning the tables on you. Just when you thought you were the one providing a shoulder to cry, or laugh on you felt your emotional tanks being filled.
Above all I know that Kerby had faith in where he was going. It was that faith that gave him the strength to let go. He had faith that his place was with God, faith that his family would continue when he could not continue with them, faith that his friends would remember him and hold fast to the memories that they shared.
Kerby’s favorite Hymn was “How Sweet to die.” I think it is fitting and succinctly says what he would tell each of us about life if he had the chance to do so.
Farewell, vain world, I'm going home, My Savior bids me come
Sweet angels beckon from on high
Then, O how sweet to die
I'm glad that I am born to die, from grief my soul shall fly,
Sweet angles beckon from on high
Then, O how sweet to die
I'll praise my Savior while I've breath, I'll praise Him after death,
I'll praise His matchless name on high
Then, O how sweet to die
I soon shall pass this vale of death, when I shall lose my breath,
And then my happy soul shall fly,
Then, O how sweet to die.
posted by Kerby at 6:57 AM
4 Comments:
I,too knew and loved Kerby. It has been almost three weeks and I miss him terribly. He was my brother in law, but he taught me the art of mutual respect and how to dis-agree and still be friends. The two of us were very much alike.....perfectionistic, but filled with compassion for life and those that we loved. We both always had our own opinions, but could respect the opinions of others.
Knowing Kirby was a privledge and an honor. I wish everyone had this privledge. I am greatful to God for giving this to me! God gave Kirby a beautiful soul mate and 3 remarkable children. I thank God everyday for letting me have these people in my life. We may not have the "physical" Kirby, but we still have the memories and 4 wonderful souls that are a daily reminder. Never expect what we have today be here tomorrow. Love them with all your heart today and they will be in your heart tomorrow.
Kerby was just as this said... full of faith. Each and every time I spoke with him he always said "I'm doing fine, I'm so glad you're here" Kerb just was fine, or maybe not fine but accepted what was being dealt to him at this point in his life... He never seemed distraught about the situation. His love and conern always seemed to be for Kris to be okay and the children to be taken care of at all times.
As his "sis" stated he was opinionated but always let you offer yours too, (not that he always accepted it)
I will never forget the first time I met Kerby...It was at school to plead for the understanding of his daughter and autism.
My heart poured out to this man who only wanted to make sure that the educators that would be in his daughters life would show her much love and affection...
It's been a month now since Kerby's going home and I still think of him often and Kris and the children more often. What a blessing to know this family
I didn't know Kerby personally. I happened upon his story when I was doing research on ACC when my 4 year old nephew was diagnosed with it several months back. I could tell he was a remarkable man with many adventures. I know he will be missed deeply. Please know that you will be in my prayers always.
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