One of the ways that I know that I need to write about something is when I can't shake the thought that I need to write about something. Like it will pop up at moments when I least expect it. We had our last small group meeting in early May and I talked a little about this story. Its a story that is foundational to my faith. And I am not the good guy of this story.
I was awakened by my Mom on August 15 1995 with a tone in her voice that I knew when she said my name was a different tone than my Mom would usually say my name. She said, "Jarod, Jake Caplan passed away in a car wreck last night". As I began processing being awake and hearing that news I was confronted with every conversation Jake and I had ever had. Every time I was a fake friend to him. Every word I had ever said behind his back to make fun of him. I was confronted with the fact that I couldn't ever take any of it back.
When I was 19, I thought I was invincible. I thought I had it all figured out. In the days following Jake's death I was confronted with my own mortality, and the sum of my life up until that point. I had a teacher in 8th grade, maybe it was 9th grade in science. His name was Mr. Caplan. He was new to our school, I remember him saying that he and his family had moved from florida. I was awful to Mr Caplan. And so of course when I saw him at our church one Sunday morning after that school year, I was terrified. It was one of the first times that I was confronted with the need to ask someone to forgive me for how awful I had been. Fortunately for me, Mr Caplan forgave me and we were cordial from then on. He had a son named Jake. Jake became part of our youth group. Looking back at it now, I think of how hard it had to be for him moving to this small town in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of kids that had all grown up with each other and our cliques were tightly formed. At the time, I just thought Jake was a dork.
Jake and I ended up serving in children's church together. We'd run sound, and do the puppets for the kids. I always felt like I was in competition to be better at Jake at everything. I wasn't. At the time I thought I was the coolest guy around. I wasn't. Whenever it was Jake and I alone, I was a genuine friend to him. But when other people came around, I would distance myself. I would turn into the trope in TV shows where the guy would turn into a jerk to the people that he thought he was better than. With some perspective now, I am disgusted with myself. Jake and I both chewed a lot of the same dirt in serving at church, so we were aroud each other quite a bit, for a number of years. And the trope continued all through high school.
Since it's been 31 years now, the timeline has faded. I can't put the things in order because there's been a lot that's happpened between then and now. But what I do remember is that Jake just wanted to be my friend. I remember he would try to go fishing and stuff with me, and because I was the way I was, I would do anything to avoid that happening. In our senior year, Jake and I both had to take "0 Hour". It was a class before school started. I had to take it becaue of some bad decisions I had made in the 9th grade. I think Jake had to take to make up a credit from moving. After class every day, we would go get breakfast. Jake would drive because he could park at the top of the hill because his Dad was a teacher at the school. This is where I genuinely got to know Jake. He was just a really nice guy. He had a lot of hopes and dreams. The thing that I know about Jake is he loved Jesus. That's the best thing about him. He wanted to spread the gospel. Jake was unashamed.
Jake had left to go to Bible college inWaxahachie Texas. He had went the summer before the fall semester was supposed to start. He had gotten a job, and met a girl. He was so happy. And then that fateful morning, it was over. I spent the next few days alone. I can't remember why. I think my parents had a trip planned or something but they were gone. And I was confronted with the most conviction I had ever been confronted with in my life. The thing about someone dying with the conversation left unhad, is you never get to have the conversation that you know you needed to have. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I would close my eyes and the video of every time I was a jerk to Jake would just play over and over again. During this time, the Holy Spirit was doing his work in my life. I had several conversations with the most important people in my life at the time about my life and my choices, and how to change. I remember one night in particular in the wee hours of the morning, I was praying. I asked God to ask Jake if he would forgive me. It sounds silly now, but I was serious. I believe that God used that time in my life to show me that in order to not live with that regret in the future, to take care of it now. I needed to stop being a hypocrite. I needed to love people in a genuine way, not just if they could do something to advance my own agenda. Jake's death became the singular event in my life that changed everything about me. I'm sure there are moments when I haven't been my best, but since Jake's passing, I've been more genuine.
I've now spent a couple of days asking myself what is the point of this blog post? Sometimes its good to go back and remember the foundations of your life. I forget how far back the grace of God goes back in my life. Now that I'm 50 years old and some change, it's been 50 years and some change. The biggest anchors in my life unfortunately all revolve around loss. When I was 13 and my Grandpa died. When I was 19 and Jake died. And when I was 40 and my brother died. All horrible times, and at the same time God was doing his best work in my heart. I still have a hard time explaining it,and frankly its hard for me to understand it myself. The foundations of my life have all been shaken a few different times now, and they still hold. If you've given up, start again. If you feel like God is listening, keep talking. The greatest mysteries aren't solved easily if they ever are. Don't give up. If you have, pick it back up again.
I think about Jake every now and then. I wonder what he would've turned in to. I wonder what he would think about me and my life. I think he'd be happy for me. I think he would be glad that I stuck with it. Mind you I still look back and think Jake was a dork. I realize now that so was I. Just in a different way. The unanswered questions of a life cut short, are difficult to process. I referenced a few direct messages I had with Jake's sister Jenny off and on through the years. It was good to see those. Jake's story really isn't mine to tell. But my story with Jake as a part of it, is. I wish he was 50 as well. With a big family, killing it at life. I don't know a lot of things, but one that I do, Jake would still love Jesus and he would still be spreading the gospel. Thanks Jake for who you were in my life. I remember that little green station wagon car still. I still remember your big cheesy grin. Thank you for helping me become a better man. You were integral in my story. The story of my life cannot be told without referencing you. I'm sure one day in eternity, we'll have a long catch up convesation about all of it.
