a life like mine

Have you ever felt like you’ve been called to do something? Maybe it’s not the task of moving mountains or stepping off a cliff in utter faith. Perhaps its simply trusting that the tug on your heart, the stir in your soul, to move from your current position to a place you resisted? Or it could just mean being you. As God created.

A little more than a year ago, I learned that a friend of mine from my high school days had passed away. Though it had been more than 8 years since I had seen him, I immediately felt the loss. I remember spending the rest of that day in a very solemn state of mind.

Colby Hayes.

Colby befriended me the summer of 1997. I was 17 and I will never forget him. He had an infectious personality. Regardless of where he went, people were drawn to him. It wasn’t because of some star power that you see in the likes of Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie. His was more genuine; it was driven by our Savior.

At the time I met him, I was looking for a new church home and Colby insisted that I come with him one Wednesday night. Enter Crabapple First Baptist Church. It was remarkable. Not only was there a stellar mix of kids, but there was something indescribable about what was taking place in that church. It was very similar to what was taking place with Colby – the culture was driven by our Savior. And I loved it. The kids and leaders welcomed me with open arms – even when many of them had been lifetime friends. Their circle could never get too big; I was always invited and embraced. The culture embodied the notion “come as you are.”

For the next year and a half, Colby and I became pretty good friends. A few nights a week we would shoot hoops at Hembree Park – which would later become his employer. I remember playing ball with him one night and he got so involved with the game that he bit his own tongue off. No lie. Actually, I think some guy’s elbow met the lower portion of Colby’s jaw while he was doing his best Michael Jordan impression. In any case, Colby landed in the ER and wound up talking like Gumby for the next several days.

Many weekends we would end up eating at Rio Bravo. And there was never a time that we didn’t tell the restaurant that it was someone’s birthday. It was hilarious to look around the table to see who that target was going to be. I’ll never forget the night that I finally got Colby. The restaurant couldn’t have been more elaborate in their execution. The manager came out and made Colby wear a sombrero, stand on his chair and scream to the other patrons that it was his birthday. The wait staff proceeded to sing happy birthday in their native tongue. Feliz compleanos.

Colby introduced me to Tommy Boy – which is one of my all-time favorite movies. A classic.

Then there was Colby’s maroon Nissan 300ZX. Man was it awesome! Especially compared to my navy blue Pontiac 6000, aka The Beast.

But the greatest memory that I will always have of Colby was his dedication to the cause. His love of Christ. The example he set. The love he poured out. I have to believe that the life he led was not a challenge for him; in that I mean, Colby felt it was his responsibility to serve Jesus and that dedication came thru in every aspect of his life. I believe we are all called to do something extraordinary with our life. And Colby accomplished it earlier than the rest of us. There is great hope in knowing that his service did so much to further The Kingdom. 

I never told Colby what I thought of him. I never told him that I would thank God every night for his friendship during that fateful Summer in 1997. I never told him thank you. Thank you inviting me to church; exemplifying what it meant to be 17 and on fire for Jesus; for introducing me to Matchbox 20; for driving fast down Mid-Broadwell Road on the way to Wednesday night church…with the top off the Z;  for being a leader to the youth at Crabapple; for investing time in me; for being a friend; for being…Colby.

At the time I learned of his passing, he had been gone for just over a year. To this day I still regret not being able to be a part of his life’s celebration. I think about Colby often. I don’t know what my life would be like if he had never taken that part-time job at FootLocker. But I do know that my life is better for having known him. For that I am grateful.

Thanks Colby!