Last night, exactly two months after the wreck, when our small group of families--the children and their families who survived the accident--got together, we were all excited to hear good news from Cook's Hospital about Jon Weston. We are obsessed in prayer with his recovery. Later we gathered around to watch a recording of Brody Bourland's funeral. People were right: the Highland auditorium (which seats 1800) was packed, with people spilling over into the atrium. I was so thankful for the healing, truthful words that Jim Hinkle (one of Highland's youth ministers) and Rob Cunningham (one of our elders) spoke. It was such a helpless feeling to be unable to attend the funeral, but we were still in ICU at Cook's at the time. Here's what Diane and I know: this grief doesn't end after a couple months . . . or after a couple years. It stays with you, changing as the years roll by. But how do you ever really get past the loss of a child (or someone else dear to you)? This isn't unhealthy; it's the nature of loss. And it's a traveling companion that makes you look forward to heaven. Today, I share with you part of St. Patrick's "Breastplate Prayer": Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise, Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me.