Trevor Heinrich (a life unrivalled)

Trevor Heinrich (a life unrivalled)

The question is not of who won or who lost. The question is why did the cancer have to be such a sore looser? My friend, Trevor is home with Jesus.

It’s easy to say clichés like heaven couldn’t spend another minute without him or he’s in a better place and we’ll see him again one day. It’s easy because they’re true, but it doesn’t make the ache any softer for a wife who finds herself missing her best friend and her lover; her some much more then I could ever ponder. I know the little I knew him in comparison leaves an ache in my chest and tears in my eyes. My wishes to spend more time, write music and sing with him like we planned before the his voice was, for those dreams, silenced. But heaven and hell both know that his voice could not be silenced! He climbed higher then Everest, and reached father then the coast and around the world with his smile, his passion, his joyful exuberance. His faith was stronger than anything I’d ever seen and his gentleness was to the atomic level, only to be rivaled by his compassion like the ocean and his love vibrant and present as color itself. He thought deeply, dreamed wildly, followed his dreams so rigidly and tenaciously, he would push through steadily until the task was complete.

And though I struggle at moments to breath, I can’t imagine the chest of his Family who’s breath can only be replaced as the cries of sadness and grief are retracted forcefully to be followed by silence or tears or choking over the next emotion unable to be predicted or seen. Their family member who’s life on earth was not left unlived has been cut shorter then they would have ever imagined or expected. But his legacy and memories will never fade. He will never cease to be missed. They will know laughter again. They will breath easier, but he will always be a part of them. Grief will never become past tense, but the tension of that grief will loosen its grip for most days.

The thing of it is, we do not want to forget. The future is mourned not because he’s not with this moment, but because tomorrow’s reality is the same as today’s. The dreams made with him are now ours to trail blaze. In his memory, we gaze into what our friend would have done if he had even one more day. We must not waist our precious days in fear of what might happen. What if the things we set our minds to don’t turn out as sweet as we wished them to.

But what will happen when we look at ourselves, years later, in awe of a man who lived his life as closely to Jesus as he ever could, at that’s all we do? Will we not be moved to live more beautifully, love more purely, fight more passionately, and dream more wildly?

Or will we let ourselves return only wishing, but never being?

Trevor has changed my life. The hours I’ve spent with him have been few and far between, but they were rich in beauty, vibrantly refreshing, enlightening and full of permission to dream. I met him in 2015 and I say goodbye on the 24th day of June in 2019.

It has not fully set in, and I can’t begin to think I could scratch the surface of how special he is, but this is my account of Trevor David Heinrich:

He greeted me with sincerity, shared moments intentionally, exchanged art and encouragement mutually and humbly. He dreamed and encouraged me to dream with faith I hadn’t seen, laughed uncontrollably. He rock climbed skillfully and never gave up, pulling me to become better, even before his dream to climb to Everest’s peak. He let me crash on his couch, sat down with me to have coffee, mid hike accross the US as he raised money. He shared his friends in a Bible study and sat with me, embraced me, and affirmed me in the man I was and was to be. We watched a play at Sight and Sound before he would work there. We climbed some more after he had been going more head on towards his Everest dreams. I sat with him after I got him ice cream. We ate it together. It was peanut butter cup. It was supposed to be dairy free, but that accident became his cheat in his week. We laughed so hard, after he said, “This is so good! I can’t believe it’s dairy free!” We looked at the package, noticed my mistake and lost it. I felt bad as his laughter was interrupted by pain and coughing, but these are some of the moments I never want to release. I saw him marry the woman of his dreams. The light in his eyes could have challenged the sun as she walked towards him; when she took his name. I cut his hair, and spent time with him and his wife. He showed me the things that he was still passionately doing. A gift he was making for his beauty. The Kombucha bottle anticlimactically did not explode, but surely made a mess. Stella and him alike encouraged me and showed me true love and sacrifice. I prayed for him as I followed his story. He never let himself get bitter. He never lost his smile; that smile no one can forget. His heart was the purest. I wish I could have spent more time with him. I wish I could go back and play the times we did have, but my times with him are only a sliver his story that show how amazing he is. His legacy will not quickly fade, and his impact will surely never be counted or measured; it will continue to grow day by day.

The cancer took his life on earth, but it did not take his spirit. Trevor won the race. He is healed. He is whole.

Reality and it’s Elements (Poem)

Reality and it’s Elements (Poem)

Within the whimsicality of reality, we all say we’re doing fine, with the truth wrapped behind our eyes. It’s then, stowed deep inside the chest cavities until it rots into a lump, rolling deep inside the stomach, giving off fumes of insecurity and unresolved pain and even shame. When it vents through the mouth or seeps through the porous skin, it doesn’t often produce truth, the substance it once was, but it leads to anger, violence, depression or various vices and sins. It can also just build up and produce nothing but pressure, and silence.

Within the grind of reality, we find ourselves working through the week, forgetting what we’ve even done. Forgetting how we have even gotten where we are and where the years have gone. Where the passion for the art of our work is, and how it’s moved on. We want to work in a way work is like play and in some way, makes a change. Like we’re worth the space and working for more than just a pay check.

Within the the heartbeat of reality, we long for something. A finger cannot be placed on the longings destiny or what it is we want, but we want to be free; free from the hold of our current reality. We push through and hope for the best while knowing deep within our chest, that freedom is indeed within our grasp; That there is hope to be had.

Within the core of reality, we know that we must give up our grip on looking good on the outside to hold up our pride. We have to grasp onto something bigger than the skeletons we call our homes, and let go.

In the transparency of reality, we find freedom from the shame. We find freedom from the lie that no matter how dirty we are inside, we must appear clean as wool on the outside. For the discharge of infection may be messy, but it is necessary for the healing.

To make constant a reality, transparency is a must, although it only starts the thrust toward a life of peace and joy and freedom as a life long truth. It is a battle won in a war. It is not a guarantee, but it is a victory. Regardless of our sincerity, we must press on with vigor, suit up with the armor of God. Our enemy will not relent, we must not turn our back in ignorance, but stand sure in our position, and hold firm to our convictions.

In the fullness of reality, transparency must win, hope must spark, pride must fall, and determination must last.

We are not far removed from a full and true reality. We are only as free as we allow ourselves to be.

Garden Restoraton (Poem)

Garden Restoraton (Poem)

I’ve wrestled with my mind in desperation
And I’ve become crippled by its convincing blows.
My defenses were weak and the forest of my mind was overgrown.
The lies have become trees that block the Sun’s rays
And my mind was shielded from its promises, with little light shining through the trees and heavy haze.

But while my defenses were all but destroyed and my mind almost def from all the noise, an old friend introduced Hope.
Hope has no one face, and is friends with Joy, Patience and Grace.
These strangers saw my forest and all the mess along with it. But most of all, they saw the little light shining through and knew there was more I could get.

These strangers and I began to landscape.
Where each tree was erased, the light began to replace.
With the brush dragged away, a fresh wind removed the haze.
Now the land is clear today
Of any tree able to decay.
Only one tree remains.
It has been there all along.
This tree will always stay and always be strong.
But the difference between this tree and the rest, is this tree brings life to the land, not death.
It’s shade is calm, it’s fruit is sweet.
It brings rest to all who need.

The friends who came were all unique and born to different lands, through my old friend brought them to a new clan.
This friend was Love, who’s spirit carried the best of everyone of them and so much more.
And thanks to Love, I was no longer torn.
I was in their clan, forever and more.

There is a hidden beauty in the garden that has now been discovered.
Through hope and joy and all the others,
Lies were uprooted and life was uncovered.

written: 3.26.15

Something you’re not: personable vs friendly

I’ve found myself, throughout my life, having a hard time being personable. (This is an observation, and it’s not a bad thing. I’ll explain more as I go on.) I’ve seen some people have such a smooth approach and ease with starting conversations, holding conversations, ending conversations and even walking away from a conversation. Unfortunatly, if I just met you or if we’re not really close friends, I will butcher from one to all of these steps.  

This dilemma had and does frustrate me to this day. If I see someone I graduated or went to school with, just picture a train trying to derail as he sees another coming up the tracks. No matter what he tries to do, he either crashes head on and burns, or derails, crashes and burns. Either way, not a good situation. (If you’re one of those people, I sincerely apologize and wish I could have changed the outcome of that conversation and I hope you can look past the awkwardness produced by every syllable produced from my lips.)

If that was a little melodramatic, it wasn’t by much, but my point is, I’ve seen so many people approach the situation and walk away unscathed and with ease. 

This had also caused me frustration in teaching, talking to girls (mostly in high school. I’ve not so recently decided to put that on hold, but that’s for another topic) to meeting new people, etc. 

The thing that’s amazing though is this:
It’s ok to not be personable! It’s definitely a gift, but absolutely not necessary for life. This is what really gets important when the rubber hits the road; are you a good friend?

It’s one thing to be personable, but if you can’t be a good friend, your life will be filled with shallow acquaintances and void of true, reliable, relatable friendships that really have your back. The crazy thing is I’ve been there in a way, because I balanced out my person-ability with acting outlandish and loud and humor in some way, shape or form. 

Being friendly is less of a skill or a gift and more of a mindset in a way that develops into your character. Being a friend in short is the following:

  • Listening
  • Being there when it’s not convenient
  • Not focusing on relationship effort balance
  • Giving thought out and/or prayed through advice 
  • Donating your time
  • Doing all these things, even when you can’t get something back

That’s some really simple, yet externally challenging tasks, but what people need these days are true friends. What our generation needs are true friends. 
Are you personable?

 If yes, don’t hide behind it. Use your gift. Be a friend too!

 If no, don’t worry! Try your best (and prayer never hurts) and if it falls flat, be a friend! People need you. 

Are you a friend?