Ten years ago today, my life, and the lives of many others in the Gothenburg community changed drastically. One of our own was taken much too young.
I remember exactly where I was when I got the phone call: Valentino’s Pizza Buffet in North Platte, Nebraska. Cerissa and I had just gotten our hair done for the Homecoming dance - which was only a few hours away - when tragedy struck. Maggie McFadden called me. With a shaky voice I said, “But not our Matthew Peterson, right?” I hung up the phone, looked at my mom across the table and couldn’t believe what I said next: Matthew Peterson died today. I didn’t even cry, I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know who to call or what to say.
I remember going to the church in my homecoming dress and just sitting there in silence with our youth leaders. I remember praying for Matt, for his family and his siblings. I remember being in such a state of shock that I couldn’t even listen to what was coming out of everyone’s mouths. I thought to myself, “I just saw him yesterday. I watched him run down the field during the varsity game last night. We were joking with each other and laughing in the school parking lot not even 24 hours ago … How is this happening?” Regardless of what was going on internally, it was all slowly becoming a reality.
The halls at school were quiet, the counselors office was packed for weeks and some days half the kids in your class just didn’t even bother coming to school. Your funeral was beautiful, Matt. Not an empty seat in the church, and as much as I cried for you I knew that we were celebrating what a blessing you were to all of us.
As I look back over the last ten years, I remember you most in the small moments. Almost every time I see a snake, I think about that time at your birthday when you boys caught a snake and us girls couldn’t stop screaming. When I go into the youth room at church I think about all the times we got in trouble for talking too much. I laugh and think about all of the stress we caused Mr. Scherer with our FFA shenanigans. I think of you, and do my best to hold back the tears, when I hear the song “Already there” by Rascal Flatts. But beyond all of the memories Matt, I remember your personality, the way you carried yourself and the profound impact your contagious spirit had on others. I don’t know what it was about you, but you had this ability to pull others up when they were feeling down; your smile said everything the rest of us couldn’t.
I think about where you would be now; maybe married, probably graduated from college with a degree in Agribusiness or some farm related field. You would come home on the weekends to watch your brother play football. You would be the best Uncle any little kid has ever seen. I think about it, and I know you would have been great at so many things. But each time I think about you, I’m reminded that you are somewhere many of us only dream of.
You are walking the streets of gold and drinking from the river of Life. You are restored and made whole, in the image of God, just hanging out and singing praises with the angels. You are walking with Jesus, in the eternal kingdom of our Father. Your smile is more radiant than ever and you are covered in blessings. I remind myself that you are exactly where you are supposed to be. I’ll never forget something that your mom told all of us as we were grieving and trying to sort through the confusion ten years ago. She said, “He wasn’t mine. He wasn’t ours. His Daddy was ready for him to come home. I’m just thankful I got to have him while I did.” I have clung to those words so many times over the last ten years. “His Daddy was ready for him to come home.” And as I sit here with tears in my eyes, I know that your Daddy, our Daddy, is taking much better care of you than any of us could here on this earth. You are where you are supposed to be.
This week has been hard for me, harder than this week has ever been in the past. Maybe because I’m back in Gothenburg and I’m reminded of you more often. Maybe it’s because I went to the homecoming football game this year, watched your brother play in jersey #28 – just one number away from yours – and felt the heaviness of that tragedy as I walked to my car thinking of the last words I said to you 10 years ago.
I have an endless list of thoughts and prayers currently running through my head as I think of and remember you, but I find peace resting in the Lord’s perfect and stainless plans, knowing you are with Him and lavished in His love.
Colossians 2:7 says:
“… rooted & built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.”
I am overflowing with thankfulness as I sit here and think of all the wonderful memories I have with you, and the impact you had on the lives of so many people during your short time here with us.
Your friend, always and forever,
Much love.
-Vic