In Loving Memory of Kevin William Lines

In Loving Memory of Kevin William Lines
January 4, 1974 – May 23, 2012

It was an emotional weekend. On the same day my wife had her baby shower, I attended the memorial service of my friend Kevin Lines. As at most memorial services I’ve attended, my emotions were up and down. When I walked up to the doors of the church and was handed the flyer with the order of service, just seeing a picture of Kevin with the words “In Loving Memory” nearly caused me to break down on the spot. I had to go to the bathroom to gather myself.

In the week leading up to the memorial service, I told my wife about Kevin and what he was like. That also led me to start talking about the people we hung out with. One of the names that popped up was Sean Lowry (he’s one of my favorite people ever). When I went to the bathroom at the memorial service, guess who was there? That’s right. Sean. We talked for a while and decided to sit next to each other. He told me he had heard the news about Kevin from Dave (another mutual friend). Dave had texted him, “Call me, it’s about Kevin.” Sean immediately thought, “Kevin was in an accident” and was ready to take the next flight out of Seattle. When Sean called Dave, he broke the news to Sean that Kevin was already gone due to a heart attack. The news spread quickly. We were all shocked and immediately started praying for his family.

I met Kevin at Calvary Chapel Bible College. I’ve previously written about the host of issues I had during that time in my life. Kevin and I were similar in a lot of ways. Neither of us had ever studied or cared for learning much of anything… that is until the Lord captured our hearts and transformed apathy and indifference into empathy and passion. When we reconnected years after CCBC, I told him I graduated from Talbot School of Theology. Kevin, too, had become passionate about academics and was in the process of obtaining a PhD in philosophy of religion and theology from Claremont School of Religion. We picked up where we left off and started talking about what we were learning theologically and how it enhanced our understanding of who God was.

More than the academics, though, I remember Kevin being one of the most supportive individuals I’ve ever come across. Again, my time at CCBC was a struggle. I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted in life. I would often lash out in immaturity as a result. I thought I was ready for responsibilities but when given the opportunity, I failed miserably. Kevin was nearly always there to encourage me often showing empathy, love, and compassion towards me. He wasn’t detached from people because he was studying heady things. He was grounded and cared for people. He never really liked big crowds but if you were to sit with him in a small group, his joy for life and compassion for people clearly showed.

After his memorial service there was a reception. It was good catching up time with other friends from CCBC that I haven’t seen in years. We shared stories about Kevin and wondered what he would be thinking about all this since he never liked big crowds. Seeing everyone else made me appreciate my time at CCBC even more.

I don’t know why the Lord took Kevin home. I don’t know why his lovely wife, Grace, is now a widow. I don’t know why his son Mason, who is 8 months old, will grow up without his father. I don’t have answers. Interestingly, my church just finished preaching through the book of Job. Job had a lot of questions as well, but in the end, he was completely content knowing God is both just and good. Job was okay with not knowing what was really going on behind the scenes of his personal suffering. Maybe we should be too.

I know Mason will grow up with wonderful stories about his father. Kevin will be his hero even though he’s no longer here. If there was something I could tell Mason when he’s older it would be this:

Mason,

I met your dad at Bible College and believe it or not, he didn’t like children back then. But when you were born something drastically changed him. He didn’t think he was ready for fatherhood but when he was given the opportunity he clearly took ownership of it. He had his diaper bag, a few toys, and other assorted things children needed when he took you places. He loved spending time with you. He loved being your father. If you knew your dad when I met him, you probably couldn’t picture him carrying a diaper bag. He loved learning and he loved people but most of all he loved the Lord Jesus. Your father supported me through a rough time in my life. It was during a time when I struggled to find a clear path in life and your dad was one of the guys God used to help give me direction. Even though he’s not here, my prayer for you would be that his memory and example would be a guiding light to you, that the many people who loved your father dearly would keep his memory alive in you, and that you would become an even greater man than he was because that’s what he would’ve wanted. He loved you Mason. If you ever feel the temptation with bitterness towards God for taking him from you, just remember your father lived for your Heavenly Father. Jesus was his passion. Jesus was the one who changed his life, and Jesus is now the one preserving his life for eternity. You will meet your father someday and he will be waiting for you with your Heavenly Father. You will have all of eternity to ask him all the questions you may have in your heart now. I pray that you love the God your father served so well.

Tomorrow is promised to no one. I think many people wish they could have had a last conservation with loved ones they may have lost. If I could tell Kevin a few things it would be this:

Kevin,

First, I can’t believe you’re gone. It just feels too soon. Second, I can’t believe you’re in the presence of Jesus. That must be absolutely awesome. Finally, I just wanted to thank you for being one of the most supportive people I’ve ever come across in my life. I’ll never forget the compassion and empathy you showed me during our time together at CCBC. Your hunger for learning was infectious and the Holy Spirit supernaturally gave you a love of people. I remember almost every hug you gave me. It didn’t matter if I was spilling my guts, angry about losing my girlfriend, or stealing Josh’s food. You gave me the same hug every time. When we meet again in the presence of our Heavenly Father, I expect that very same hug. I know you never finished your PhD, but you know God better now than any scholar could hope to this side of heaven. So, I say “Congrats!” to you. Thank you for the hope that men who once didn’t like children could turn out to be great dads. I’ll never forget you and the person you helped me to be. I love you bro, and I will miss you dearly.

Your brother in Christ,

Junior Jamreonvit