“Dad, I know it’s hard to keep the hope, but you’ll find more of your own if you give just a little to someone else”. – Braden

“In order to realize the worth of the anchor, we need to feel the stress of the storm.” – Corrie Ten Boom

“Cathy, why did you give me a necklace?” – Braden’s dad

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“God Winks”. That’s what some people call them. Maybe it’s because such moments are too perfectly timed. Like a quick glimpse of our Creator, it’s like He’s grinning, “See? I told you”. These subtle winks are often delivered when least expected, but they’re always confirming to our faith. They seem to happen more frequently lately and we hang onto each one, knowing they’ll be needed as an anchor of certainty when the storms of doubt arise. Several weeks ago was just another example of such a “wink” as a brewing storm approached for our family. Another perfectly timed reminder that God doesn’t forget about our storms and will always remain steady if we will just choose to trust and take hold of Him.

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It was early October as we neared yet one more annual date of remembrance. The dreaded day before Halloween which is an anniversary we’d prefer to forget. On such occasions, our family doesn’t talk much about it, but we all quietly plan ahead by taking time out of our routine just to be together and to recall the good memories. The lighter side of what Braden brought into our world. Still, we know the day will arrive with pain, quiet tears, and the ever-present “What if’s” that come when we lose someone who left by their own choice. By now, one might expect such dates would finally have dissolved into just another day, but that may likely never happen. I suppose it should not.

“BradensVoice” hadn’t been invited to speak in a few months and although support for our homegrown non-profit remained strong, the voice had been silent. Then, just days before the approaching anniversary, I received two separate messages out of thin air from complete strangers. The first was from a youth leader of a local church. One of its members had attended a BradensVoice talk we’d held for their kids a few years earlier. A new crop of teens needed to hear some truths from someone with experience on a subject about which we have come to know too well. When I asked what date their Youth Night was held, you might guess… it was on Wednesday night, October 30th. The youth minister hadn’t known this and preferred to move our visit to another week. After talking it over though, we all agreed there could be no better way to honor our boy. When better could we talk openly to young people about the value of their lives, the terrible long-term impact of such an impetuous decision, and most importantly the certain anchor upon which they could always rely.

Cathy and I went together and I’m proud of her for taking this step. To say the least, neither of us will forget that night. After our talk, over 50-75 kids, parents, and teachers poured onto the stage to pray over us. It was the most amazing experience to feel each of their hearts reaching into ours. Words really can’t convey our emotions and gratefulness for this invitation particularly on that day. Each hand placed on our shoulders on that cold and dark October night were confirming this had been the perfect timing. I think Braden must have personally asked God to send his family something we didn’t know was needed. Help and hope. Only a loving and understanding God could know best how and when to deliver such an invitation.

The second contact was from a woman who had tragically lost her own brother. She was the 2024 chairperson for a local event held annually by a national foundation for awareness. The fundraiser walk also brings together hundreds of people each year who support and encourage each other. Within days following our loss, this same event had been my first opportunity to meet others who shared common ground. Ironically, that first walk was held on the morning of Braden’s memorial service. This year, we weren’t sure if we would be going, but this stranger had invited BradensVoice to speak. My answer was as always, “No way…Absolutely”.

This second audience wasn’t at all like the first. Instead of a group of hungering curious church kids, this would be a diverse mix of ages, cultures, backgrounds, faith, and many people who never heard about Jesus or might be angered by the mention of his name. For this reason, I was asked to keep the presentation as secular as possible. My first response to this restriction wasn’t good. After all, faith has been our ONLY reliable source of peace, purpose, and healing. A personal relationship with God was the only real answer this crowd needed, so how could I have an opportunity to share yet keep it to myself? After the initial reaction, I cooled off and decided to pray about whether to go or not. I pictured Braden standing next to Jesus when I sensed the answer: “If you refuse to reflect me, then who will?” Without thinking further, I said aloud, “Ok, guys”.

As I went over the notes early the following morning, I just kept hearing those words, “Reflect Me”. Getting dressed to leave for the event, I noticed something next to the sink in our dressing room. Cathy had bought each of us a silver necklace with an anchor attached to the chain. Not being a person who wears jewelry, I’d kept mine on the counter for years. Suddenly, I knew the purpose of this gift. “Why don’t you just wear this so it can be seen?”

The “speech” that morning was themed around the Titanic tragedy and why a sunken ship is still remembered more than 100 years later. It was about a beautiful creation, branded as “Unsinkable”. Even though people made every effort and spared no expense to ensure it wouldn’t sink, it did. I recalled stories of passengers who had been fortunate to grab a seat on a lifeboat but desperately rowed away to avoid being pulled down by the vacuum caused by the sunken ship. I talked about the few courageous survivors who chose instead to stay even though it involved risk, to help others still drowning.

Although, I felt the message was hopeful to a crowd of survivors, I’m confident it was quickly forgotten by most. Still, I didn’t get to share what I had wanted to say and what I believe someone desperately needed to hear. Sadly, I had to keep those words to myself. However, one thing I hadn’t kept hidden that morning was there for all to see, it was hanging right near my heart. The story I really wanted to tell and the reflection I hope others observed that day wasn’t as much about sunken ships as it was about our anchor.

Our daughter is not yet ready to attend such talks although I sense that she may someday have a story to tell all her own. When I got home that afternoon, she asked if I told people about Jesus. My answer was that I just showed up but He did all the talking. If you were there that Saturday and wondered about my brief mention of our family’s anchor, it was not the one I wore around my neck. I invited you to reach out so we could share more and our prayer today is that you will do so. We too are survivors but we aren’t paddling away. Although we can’t save anyone, we can certainly tell you Who saved us.

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Prayer: Heavenly Father, You are the only true and certain anchor in the storms. Thank you for always being there when our world fails, which it certainly will. Thank you for coming into this world in human form so we humans could stand a better chance of understanding and knowing You. Our prayer is that someone who is drowning today will just take hold of Your hand. Amen