Tomorrow marks a very significant day. Tomorrow marks a day that is burned in my memory. Tomorrow marks a day that will forever make me say, "I love you," before I hang up the phone with those that are closest to me.
Tomorrow marks 10 years since Missouri State Highway Patrolman Sgt. Bob Kimberling was killed in the line of duty. To me and my family though, he was just "Bob."
It is hard to wrap my mind around the fact that it has been 10 years since I received that phone call as I was washing dishes. I was babysitting and I remember dropping to the icy tile floor in complete and utter desperation as my heart cried the prayer, "Please God, please! Help..." I didn't know what else to say.
The rest of that week was a blur of noises and colors...I remember thinking that everything and everyone around me should have been in a state of chaos, just like I was. But the world marched on, and this just didn't seem right.
I often think about Bob, and I love that my memories of him are the daily memories: him in his short shorts doing yard work, crawling under the house to "check things out" with him, the spanking I got as if I were his daughter after Katie convinced me that they "always jumped off the headrest onto the waterbed." I remember being read bedtime stories after bath time in the Kimberling house. I remember making him a medal out of tinfoil as he "saved the day" and the town from the escaped inmate. I remember moments around the table, and the smell of coffee on his breath.
Of course there are things I still wish we could have shared with him. I would write a list, but the pain is too great, and the list too long.
Mostly though I wish I could understand. But I know that God is bigger than my understanding. And I may not know the path he has chosen for me or for those I love and have loved, but I know I don't have to understand to believe.
I know I can still praise God, even when I question. I know that life here is not our ultimate destination, and I know it wasn't Bob's either. I pray that, for all of us, in times when we remember and ache, that we would be able to cling to our hope and sing "It is well with my soul..." even when we don't have the power with our own voices to sing.
Lord, hold each of us this day as we remember. Thank you for the memories we do have and for the moments we were able to share. Lord, especially hold the Kimberlings close this day. May they feel your love in real ways, and may their hurt and doubt in this time be turned to praise. And together Father, may we join in singing...No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul...Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well with my soul....