Tuesday evening, while eating dinner with Erik, I got a phone call. The worst kind. The kind announcing the sudden death of a friend. A good, loving, not-old-enough man.
He was 41, fit, and passionate. He was playing racket ball at the sports club {that's how fit he was}, and he suffered a massive heart attack. The attack stripped him from his sweet wife and his two teenage kids. Devastating.
We were honored to have served beside Scott Ondracek in the youth ministry at our church. We were blessed to have him film our wedding with his growing business, Crazy Pickle Productions {a videography company he started with his wife} ... for free. We were privileged to call him a friend.
He was a man involved in nearly every aspect of our church; while his ministry stretched far beyond the walls of the church.
I don't understand, and I must come to grips with the fact that I most likely never will. I must simply rest in the knowledge that the Lord called him home.
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