All I can say, my friend, is I am so sorry for what you're going through. I've been praying for you and for Dan and for both your families and for the Park Hill family. I'm sorry man. Love you
Evan, thank you for writing this while the ground is still shaking beneath your feet. What you name here is something most communities never think to prepare for — the way information itself becomes a kind of spiritual test in seasons of grief. Your distinction between first responders and crypt keepers is one of those insights that immediately rings true because it’s drawn from lived experience, not theory. You’re describing the moral texture of leadership when the stakes are painfully real.
What struck me most is how you expose the subtle temptations that hide inside both instincts. Motion can become self‑importance; stillness can become control. And yet, when either posture is surrendered to love, both become forms of service to the brokenhearted. That’s a rare and needed word. You’re reminding us that the real issue isn’t temperament but allegiance — whether we hold information as stewards or as consumers, whether we treat grief as something entrusted to us or something that can be leveraged for our own significance.
Your reflections on the “unscented” nature of healthy confidentiality were especially powerful. It’s one thing to keep a secret; it’s another to carry it without letting it shape your face, your tone, or your digital presence. That’s Christlike restraint. It’s Philippians 2 lived in the shadows, where no one applauds.
I’m grateful you chose to write this now, even in the midst of sorrow too deep for full reflection. It’s a gift to the wider church — a call to maturity, humility, and the kind of spiritual discipline that protects the vulnerable rather than centering the informed. Praying for you, for Dan, and for everyone walking this valley. May the Spirit continue to steady your hands as you carry what has been entrusted to you.
worthy information, Ive never had to process this before with other individuals. Ive walked through similar tragedy in my own family, so thank you for being there for their family. Sounds like a lame thank you, but while I cant remember the name of the pastor who walked with us through the loss some 37 yrs ago. I do remember the presence of the holy spirit showing up in waves of peace with the pastors presence.
All I can say, my friend, is I am so sorry for what you're going through. I've been praying for you and for Dan and for both your families and for the Park Hill family. I'm sorry man. Love you
Evan, thank you for writing this while the ground is still shaking beneath your feet. What you name here is something most communities never think to prepare for — the way information itself becomes a kind of spiritual test in seasons of grief. Your distinction between first responders and crypt keepers is one of those insights that immediately rings true because it’s drawn from lived experience, not theory. You’re describing the moral texture of leadership when the stakes are painfully real.
What struck me most is how you expose the subtle temptations that hide inside both instincts. Motion can become self‑importance; stillness can become control. And yet, when either posture is surrendered to love, both become forms of service to the brokenhearted. That’s a rare and needed word. You’re reminding us that the real issue isn’t temperament but allegiance — whether we hold information as stewards or as consumers, whether we treat grief as something entrusted to us or something that can be leveraged for our own significance.
Your reflections on the “unscented” nature of healthy confidentiality were especially powerful. It’s one thing to keep a secret; it’s another to carry it without letting it shape your face, your tone, or your digital presence. That’s Christlike restraint. It’s Philippians 2 lived in the shadows, where no one applauds.
I’m grateful you chose to write this now, even in the midst of sorrow too deep for full reflection. It’s a gift to the wider church — a call to maturity, humility, and the kind of spiritual discipline that protects the vulnerable rather than centering the informed. Praying for you, for Dan, and for everyone walking this valley. May the Spirit continue to steady your hands as you carry what has been entrusted to you.
worthy information, Ive never had to process this before with other individuals. Ive walked through similar tragedy in my own family, so thank you for being there for their family. Sounds like a lame thank you, but while I cant remember the name of the pastor who walked with us through the loss some 37 yrs ago. I do remember the presence of the holy spirit showing up in waves of peace with the pastors presence.