ABSALOM MY ABSALOM
Today, we are sharing David Warbritton Sr.’s meditation about his son, Dave Warbritton Jr., our beloved Associate Pastor, who moved on, into the presence of our Lord and Savior, on July 29th, 2019.
Absalom My Absalom
It matters not what crushed and fragmented your heart, a broken heart is a broken heart. It is a reflection of your grief, your pain and suffering because someone you loved dearly has slipped from this earth and ascended to a higher plain. We all experience heartache for lost loved ones, and manifest our feelings for others to see, though we would gladly endure our sufferings secretly. Heartache over a lost love one is a private thing, best shared with those we love and ones whom they loved. We go through the motions in the public theater and mask the pain that wells from deep within our souls.
When King David learned of the death of his son Absalom, he wept and cried out,
“My son Absalom, My son, My son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son. “
What father would not wish the same. Yet God has a purpose for all things that happen; for the death of King David’s son; for the death of my son David. Oh, the tears still roll unashamedly down my face at the thought of his passing, at the thought of what should have been and what could have been. I doubt that I will ever learn the “why” in my lifetime, but someone, somewhere will suddenly understand how Dave’s death fits into their life and “why” God took him when He did.
Dave was at the absolute peak of his life; all of his dreams finally fulfilled; all of his hopes realized. God gave him a wife and family and a first born of his own; he had graduated with a Master’s degree program from Liberty University, he had just joined the Jubilee Fellowship as an associate pastor to his “father in the ministry”. He had achieved all the goals he set for his life at great sacrifice of his time and energy. He dearly loved Kodi and her children and he absolutely adored their son Joshua. He had a degree from a credible university, cramming his mind with so much knowledge of what God had called him to do. He had the platform to deliver the message in his heart, in the place that he loved the most. Dave was at the zenith of every aspect in his life.
Just before he left for California, I had a phone conversation with him about how proud I was of him, as a husband, a dad and his future calling to Jubilee Fellowship as an associate pastor. I said,
“I know that the Bible teaches against being proud, but I am so proud of you for all that you have done and are about to do.”
He said, “You know Pop, it’s OK to be proud of your son, when Jesus was baptized in the Jordan river by John the Baptist, God spoke from heaven and said, ‘This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased’, if God can be proud of his son then it’s OK for us to be proud of our sons.” Amen.
Dave brought Joshua for a weekend visit a couple of weeks before he left for California. He knew that I would likely not see him as much after he moved so he came to share the little guy with me. I looked on it as bonding time with my grandson, but if I had known that it was my last time to share with Dave, I would have loved on my son a lot more. We shared much, but I might have been more prudent with my thoughts toward him.
Dave left us suddenly and without warning, literally in the twinkling of an eye. He was here full of life and energy and great expectations for the future, and now he is gone. Life is short at best and death is the final chapter that we must all endure. Thank God that we have the great “Hope” for life after this one, that we know we will meet again, that even now Dave is meeting with Dad and Mother and Aunt Millie and Uncle Jimmy, Rex and Irene, Granny and a host of others that have preceded him. Hallelujah! What a grand reunion, what a time of singing and praising Jesus. My heart aches for that reunion when we shall meet again.
I will never get the “why”, but there is one. We grieve his loss, his presence, his touch, his humor, his sweetness, his caring, everything that made him what he was and still is in our hearts. Like King David, I cry out,
“My son Dave, my son, my son Dave, If only I had died instead of you, David, my son, my son!”
I cling to the enduring “Hope” that we share through faith in Christ our Lord. Amen and Amen.
David Warbritton Sr.
