Brandt's Funeral - From Tommy

 I am thankful to Tommy for leading Brandt's funeral last Sunday.  His thoughts are worth sharing as I feel they can be helpful to so many others in our country that are hurting right now.

We are gathered today to say our good byes to Brandt Ray Wilks.

On behalf of the family, I want to say thank you to those who are here to share in this suffering.  Your prayers, thoughts, and acts of kindness are so very much appreciated.

Brandt was born December, 2 1982 in Bryan, Texas and died in Toyah, Texas at the age of 30 on May 11, 2013.

Father God….I pray that you would be here with us today and the days to follow.  I ask for a special portion of your spirit, your comforter.  I pray for your protection—that your spirit would envelope and surround our hearts.

I pray for your spirit’s guidance. I pray that you would draw us to you, that you would draw us away from our sadness, from our regrets, from our anger, from our questions, from the past—draw us father to you.  Father I pray against Satan’s influence.  Give us wisdom and vision to recognize Satan’s attacks in our own lives….open our eyes to see your angels of mercy around us.  I thank you for your mercy and grace.  Thank you for your power to restore and to redeem—for your power over death.  For your desire to rescue and to resurrect.

I thank you for Brandt and for the gift of his life—for the time we had with him.  I thank you for the love that he had for each of us, for his sweet smile. In Jesus name, Amen.

Over the past few weeks we have had a chance to see tragedy upon tragedy.  Tornadoes destroy homes and lives, bombers wreak havoc on innocent victims, kidnappers hold victims hostage for years, and for those of us here, the loss of Brandt’s life.  As I reflected on all the tragedy of the past few weeks, I was reminded that this world we live in is really a war zone.  It is a true battleground—with casualties all around.

As we look at the last year of Brandt’s life we are reminded that Brandt himself was in the middle of this battleground.--the physical pain with his back, the emotional pain of the loss of his brother Aaron.

Life is hard!

Ephesians 6:12tells us…..

….our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

Sounds like a war to me. A war many times we don’t want to acknowledge.

For many here, the hardness of life may bring us to a point of numbness.  A numbness that helps us survive the pain buried inside.  Times such as today may allow us to purge those emotions-to release the pain we keep trapped inside.  Sometimes that pain is released with the sobbing in our closets or bedrooms.  Grieving itself just plan hurts.

Brandt’s death for those closest to him is tragedy upon tragedy.  I have no answers—no explanation.  I have no ability to take away the difficult days ahead.

I would suggest to you that two gifts from God can keep us going—hope and purpose.  Satan would have us believe today that hope is lost. Our God tells us there is hope in the midst of suffering…
     The God of the Israelites…held captive for hundreds of years

·        The God of Daniel thrown in the lion’s den

·        The God of Joseph in a well and in prison

·        The God of Noah trapped on a boat in the midst of a flood

·        The God of Moses wandering in the wilderness

·        The God of Paul stoned, imprisoned, beaten

·        The God of Jesus-betrayed, hanging on a cross, buried in a tomb

·        That same God—well aware of suffering wants us to hope in him.

    Hope that there will be a day when sorrow is no more.

Hope for the day when all of our mistakes and shortcomings no longer bear consequences

Hope for a tomorrow that can be less painful than today.

In addition to hope, we all need a sense of purpose in our lives.

Brandt’s death causes me to have a heightened sense of purpose for me to be a better uncle to a niece who has lost two brothers—a better Uncle to Jamie than I was to Brandt.  Jamie recently posted a picture of Brandt on Facebook holding his new nephew.  When I see that picture, I see purpose.  Aaron Jenkins and his cousins and their parents provide purpose.  They have needs.  They deserve what all of us can offer.  They deserve us to be family to them.

We will not find purpose in the past.  We can find purpose as we look to the future. 

In Phillipians 4, Paul says…

This one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, ¹⁴ I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. 

Not a single one of us should leave today without a sense of purpose.  I pray that we would all accept it.

One of my favorite country western videos of all time is set to a Garth Brooks song, The Dance.  Lines of the song read: 

I’m glad I didn’t know,

The way it all would end

the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance

I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance 

In the song we are reminded that when we embark on this journey of life--this dance with friends and family—brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, cousins, and spouses-- we could avoid a lot of pain, but to do so would come at a high cost.  We would miss the joy that comes from relationships.

So conjure up your fondest memories of Brandt….happy times or funny times, embrace those memories, hold those memories in your mind:

Playing catch, fishing, hunting, playing video games, hanging out, giving him a bottle, rocking him to sleep, opening Christmas presents, seeing the smile that would light up his eyes.

Enjoy those memories, rejoice in those memories, dance with those memories, keep hold of them and carry them with you….be thankful for those memories.  They are truly a gift.

If you would, please stand as we close with prayer.

Father we again thank you for Brandt and for the opportunity to dance the dance of life with him. We ask for your comfort, your peace, your grace.  Fill the voids in our hearts with your holy presence.  Remind us of our hope and purpose in you.  Restore our souls Father.  In Jesus name, Amen.

Love Is...Often Too Late ~ In Memory of Brandt

Brandt Ray Wilks

 There's a soulful, ghost of a line between hope and despair, between clinging to a tattered shred of faith, and releasing a grieving, broken heart to rest in peace.  It’s a blurry line that I, and others in my family, have come teeter tottering to the brink of, out of inconsolable disappointment with life. This morning, I wailed in agony for the loss of my nephew Brandt, for my own regrets that can never be undone, and for the never-ending stream of multi-generational consequences that have stalked our family.

If only I could have been there to help them through…if I’d taken them in to live with Tommy and me…if I’d muddied up my young, twenty-something life to make more of a difference. ‘If only’ echoed stone cold empty in my head as I sobbed uncontrollably in my friend’s arms this morning.  ‘If only’ didn’t help Aaron 14 months ago, and now, like a sickening déjà vu, I hear my mind screaming the same useless words for his brother Brandt.

Oh Brandt, little Brandt. I know you cherished Aaron who was so much more than your big brother, but a father, a mother, your protector, and your best friend.  He’s always watched over you and loved you, until last year when he broke your heart with his death.  I’m so sorry sweet boy, I’m so sorry for your pain. I’m sorry I failed to reach out more and that I didn’t help you find a way around the internal hell you endured.  If only...

Thank you, Brandt, for the compassion you always showed, for the way you bravely ministered back to Aaron the last year of his life. Thank you for your quiet attentiveness to help others sort through the memories after he died.  Thank you my precious nephew, for the comfort and hope you gave me last year…for the kisses on my head and the huge hugs you encircled me with when I cried.

Your strength and efforts to keep going while helping others through the chaos made such a difference to so many, and I never even told you.   And now I find myself speaking too late, when your life is no more, and my words sound more to me like a resounding gong, or a clanging symbol.  Love is…often too late.

To those of us grieving over the death of our dear Brandt, and to those who are reading these words in sympathy for our family. Please don’t wait one single moment more to show compassion and grace to family, friends, and strangers. Forgive those who have hurt you. Quit preaching, pointing fingers, and arguing about meaningless religious and doctrinal “issues.”  Release your regrets and embrace the present now, to make an eternal impact in the life of someone through love. Open the eyes of your heart to see another hurting soul teeter-tottering along that blurry line between life and death. Its time to simply, Be Jesus.

Aaron and Brandt

1 Corinthians 13: 1-7 If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. ² If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing. ³ If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it;^[a] but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing.

⁴ Love is...patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud ⁵ or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. ⁶ It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. ⁷ Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

Duty Calls

This evening I walked out to the trash can to empty the vacuum cleaner canister.  The chilly wind gusted around me while bits of rain hung in the air, suspended as if contemplating crying, just like me.  The tears hid beneath a thin veneer, artfully masked by my daily life.  I try not to go “there,” ‘cause “there” is a scary place where I think too hard and catch a brief glimpse into the deeper thoughts that hover among the tears.  And tonight like the rain, I can’t decide if I’m gonna release the sadness and embrace that desire to finally be where I belong. Like salt in a wound, part of me burns with disappointment for what was and for what is to come. And I feel a tugging on my soul to forever join Him.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt totally connected to this life.  Maybe I’m an oddity, a genetic mishap 'cause I don’t fully participate in this world. A current of expectations has led me along from one year to the next, though.  I’m busy, yes, doing lots of mommy duties and Christian deeds.  I’m mostly present and accounted for, usually.  Tonight, though, not so much.  I feel the pull and sense His presence in a way that makes my soul ache to leave this earth.

Its not that I’ve not had joy along the way, glimpses of smiles, and contentment that sneak past my longing to be finished. I do, and I’m thankful for those spontaneous blessings…Lydia’s hugs and Andrew’s talk of miracles. Tommy fixed coffee for me this morning when I over slept, and last night I watched as Luke danced, uninhibited, back to his room. Mom brought me a roast tonight that I know she’d really cooked for Daddy.  Its not that I don’t see and appreciate those precious joys, they make me smile.

But it doesn’t fill me up for long.  Some days more than others I hear myself telling Him that I’m ready. I often tilt my face upward to scan the dark skies as though somehow if I gaze long enough, I’ll see him “up there” in the pitch blackness hiding among the stars. I don’t. Even so, I'm comforted by His intimate presence, knowing that He hears my heart's cry.

Tonight, I felt the chill of wind and rain along with an indescribable need to finally rest in my Lord’s arms. Duty called me back, though, from the edge of eternity, the edge of pure joy, to rejoin my family who still needed me. Regretfully, I walked back through the door to my temporary home.  But not without whispering out into the cold now raining night, “I love you Lord, with all my heart I love you…”