Remembering David Lo Piccolo

We just heard today that our long ago friend from New York has passed away.  He had been struggling with a rare disease that for 8 weeks kept him in and out of intensive care (mostly in), multiple surgeries, and LOTS of prayers for him and his family.

One of the hardest things to come to terms with, though, is his age.  Just 27 years old.  Dave was as youthful a 20-something as I’ll ever remember.  This picture was taken 7 years ago at the Creation East 2000 festival on a trip I chaperoned for our youth group.  But Dave was a chaperone too, you see – he was 20.

David played guitar with us on the church worship team.  I remember fondly the times we practiced together and worshipped our Lord with our music.  I remember Dave’s working at a local italian restaurant/pizza place.  Always a smile on his face, and a warm greeting on his lips.

My daughters liked him, thought he was cute.  My baby girl who was then about 6, used to draw pictures and give them to David after church.  He was an incredibly helpful young man, but modest as anyone could be.

One thing I know is that losing a child isn’t right.  There’s some unwritten law in the human makup that doesn’t allow for any kind of justification for the loss of a child.  Your child.  The one you cared for since birth, held closely, dreamed about and worried about and prayed for till you couldn’t pray any more. 

Even being born again followers of Jesus Christ and learned children of God’s Word, even the idea that God will be glorifed in his death doesn’t seem to fit or sit right.  I remember when we lost our baby girl Isabella when Linda was just 26 weeks along.  It hit us like a train.  And we are so thankful for all the love and caring people poured forth.  We couldn’t have made it without the love.  But it didn’t change the hurt.  It didn’t help the hurt.  It didn’t make any more sense because of the knowledge of God’s caring and provision for us.

But, and I am writing this specifically for Dave’s parents, Joe and Lynette, and his brother Brian and his family – He does get us through.  He does, dear Lo Piccolo family.  Believe it.  It’s like he is holding us in his arms.  Though we may not feel the comfort, we are being protected and cared for and….preserved.

The words of Natalie Grant’s ‘Held’:

..To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling…

Who told us we’d be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We’re asking why this happens
To us who have died to live?
It’s unfair.

This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held…

Yes, we will survive.  YOU will survive this, and someday, you will think of David and smile a slight smile.  You’ll know where he is and that he’s waiting for you …… In paradise.