Y.A.N.A

You Are Not Alone.

It's a pretty cool ministry.

Started by a guy who goes to the church I go to every now and then. Little did I know for a while that he started this whole thing because of me.

Pretty cool feeling, though I'm still not sure I did anything. He said it's because of a church trip we took a while back.

His father passed away in a car accident a little over a year ago now, and on this trip is where he found out about my father. He told me something along the lines of, when he heard that he realized that he wasn't alone, and that gave him a lot of hope. So he wanted to make other people feel this way, and so began y.a.n.a.

He asked me to write the story of when my father passed away, and how God helped me through it.

So here it is...

Hello to all who may be reading this. My name is Chris Williams, I live in Springfield, MO. About three months from now it will have been a year since my father passed away. I had known Ashton Owens for awhile, and about his father, but I had never really talked to him. Then on a church trip, he found out about my father, and he decided to start this whole thing, I feel very honored to think that he might have used me to reach any of you who he has indeed reached.

This is my story...

It's March, and time for Spring Break again, and even better we have a band trip planned. Me being the huge band geek I am, I'm thoroughly excited about it. However, we leave early that morning, and my dad finally gets the chance to sleep in, so I don't get to see him that morning. Oh well, this trip is gonna be tons of fun.

Indeed it was, we went to Nashville, Tennessee, and I had a great time. We traveled all over the city, seeing this, that, and the other things. I talk to my mom on the phone usually every night, give her the recap of what was going on. The usual mom stuff.

The days pass, and eventually the time comes for the return trip. So we board the bus and start heading home. We get a little ways into Illinois and all of a sudden I get a call from my father. He wants to know when I'll be home, and he tells me that my mother will be there to pick me up. Which, confuses me since they were supposed to be leaving on a trip of their own. He tells me that he's come down with the flu and he doesn't feel like going anywhere, so they're just going to stay home for now.

So we talk on a little longer about, oh I don't remember at all. But I remember clear as day the last thing he says to me.

"I'll let you get back to your friends."
"Okie dokey, I'll talk to you later."
"I love you son."
"I love you too dad, bye."
"Good bye son."

Those were the last words I heard my father tell me. I don't think I could've picked better words. It all seemed so final, I hardly ever say good-bye, it just doesn't fit, but there it just seemed like I was supposed to say that.

We get home, and my mother comes and picks me up, we take the short three minute drive home, and I start unpacking. I call for my dad, but he doesn't answer, I look down the hall and the bathroom door is shut, my mom says he's had the flu, so I just think, maybe he's throwing up. He's making these noises, but I do the exact same thing when I feel like I'm going to throw up, and in every other way I'm basically my father, so I don't think anything of it.

About 15 min. pass and I'm sitting there on the couch watching Titanic, and my mother goes to the door to check on Dad. He doesn't answer he knocks, and he's not making noise any more, so she tries to open the door, she pushes very hard, my father was not a very small man, and she finds him collapsed on the floor.

I'll never forget her scream, I jumped about twenty feet into the air I think and run for the phone. My hands are shaking so bad as I attempt to dial 911, I have to try twice to finally get it right. Then the wait for a person, she answers, I wish I could remember her name, but I was a little distracted, and yet calm, I know that what will be will be. The lady tells us to start CPR and takes all of our information and tells us help is on the way.

Of course it seems like it takes forever, but I'm sure it wasn't that long, my mother and I eventually switch spots, but nothing seems to change, he's turned purply, and he's not responding to us at all. The paramedics finally get there, and they take over, but my mother can't leave, so it's up to me to call my brothers and tell them what's happened.

They are 25 and 27, but they both live in town. I'm very calm when I call them, I don't know really what kept me so calm for all of this. I just kept praying for strength and peace, and the Lord granted it. It seemed like I knew everything would be fine, that it would all work out like it was supposed to. After all it is His plan.

Sometimes, I think that it's my fault that my father died, I heard him making those noises and maybe if I had tried the door, he would've been ok.

But I didn't, and I can't take that back, but maybe I didn't answer the door because I wasn't supposed to. Since my father has passed my faith has only grown, I've done a lot more things to learn more about His word. I know that my father passed for a reason, and I know that the reason will be shown to me in due time.

All of us who feel pain only have to look up to see relief. Just remember that it will all be worth it, keep your faith, there are others just like you who lost someone they love. Believe in the Lord and he will show you where to go, and what to do.

You Are Not Alone.

Thank you for reading this, and may you always look for God, because He will always look for you.

:)