For now we'll say goodbye...

Life happens.  

It comes regardless of our situation.  It is unexpected.  It is harsh.  It is cruel.  

But it is also intricate.  We cannot comprehend how the little decisions we make will effect our eternity.  

This statement has hit far too close to home this week.

Tuesday night I had just gotten home and was about to take the handful of medicine needed for me to have a restful sleep.  As I put my hand up to my mouth I had the urgency to stop.  I didn't know why, but I started working on another project.  Around midnight I received a phone call.  I heard the caller say "he's home".  Those two words were horrifically misunderstood.  

She went on to explain how one of my dear friends, Elder Trevor Strong, 

had passed away that evening.  

He was supposed to be home.  He was supposed to be adjusting to the "non-missionary" life style.  Instead he was no longer occupying his mortal body.  He had passed on to a greater mission.  A mission we will not understand until it is our time to follow in his footsteps.  

It is impossible to share my thoughts on the subject without being overcome with emotion.  

How could such a great person be taken?  How could his family be given such hope; hope of a life yet to be lived? 

Hope of warm welcome home embraces. Embraces which will now be cold and hollow shared from passing strangers as their son, their brother, lies motionless next to them. 

I cannot express how grateful I am to have known Trevor.  

He was our self proclaimed comic relief.

When we would play night games and fickle drama would arise, he was the one to bring us back to the purpose of why we were there, which was to ultimately enjoy one another's company. 

When we would have game night he was the one doing the awful impression of a kangaroo.

He was the one who was near tears the night I fell flat on my face 

while he was chasing me around the car.

He was the one who invited me to dance in the street at the stroke of midnight on new years eve.

He's the one who decided "Club T.A.S.S.K. House" 

sounds leagues better than "Club A.S.S.K. House"

He's the one who made all the girls feel like the most important, most beautiful girl, on the face of the earth. 

He could have lived a life.  He could have had a family of his own.

He could have gone to school.  He could have had a career.

But The Lord, in all his glory and wisdom, knew better.  

He knew Trevor was far too valuable a spirit to lose to the frivolous trials of this world.  

He knows what Trevor is capable of doing, of becoming.  

He is destined for greatness.  Greatness we will not be able to witness until the veil is lifted and we are able to join our friend again.  

The warm embraces will come.  

The hope is still here.

A life will still be lived.  

A family will still be raised.

A man has been exalted.

I can't do justice to the person Trevor was.  He is now one of Christ's most treasured angels, assigned to administer on the other side.  His work will be felt both here and there.  He has left a mark on all the people he has come in contact with.  A mark that will at first seem impossible to overcome.  But a mark that will  forever be treasured in the hearts of all who knew him.

My thoughts and prayers go out to his family, especially his twin brother Scott.  

I pray the many memories we all have of him will bring us strength and comfort.  

I love you Trevor.

"Here and there,

Now and then, 

God makes a giant out of men."

Love and Rockets,

Kristen Holman