I was sitting around a fire with my friends the Saturday night after Blake Hunter’s death that morning. We were waffling between small talk and big talk — cheerful talk and tearful talk — trying to keep our minds light while our hearts were undeniably heavy. One of my friends suddenly gasped, “Oh my gosh,” as her jaw dropped and she pointed to the sky. The shooting star lasted long enough for us all to stand and turn, watch it complete its fall, and end with one final, silent burst of light, burning a glowing trail in the night sky. It was hands-down the most magnificent shooting star any of us had ever seen.
God only gave us 25 years of Blake Hunter’s light. It was so brief, yet so bright. It affected every single person fortunate enough to experience it. It did not matter how dark your night was, and it did not matter if one person or thousands of people were present. It did not matter if you were grabbing a quick coffee one-on-one or if you were just a face in the audience and he was on stage. Blake was there to shine his light, and he did so without ceasing for 25 years.
On Saturday morning, the angel chorus up in Heaven gained a really good vocalist. The theater troupe gained a fabulous performer, and their musical choreography got way, way better. I’m assuming there are Pied Pipers there, too, and they just got funnier. Their soccer team also grew stronger. Every child in Heaven, I can assure you, just found a new best friend and role model. The heavenly family gained the most encouraging son, brother, cousin and nephew it could ask for, and every family meal will now be much more entertaining.
God only gave us 25 years of Blake, and I can’t decide if I’m mad or not that I ever experienced his brief and brilliant light. I can’t decide if the darkness we find ourselves in now is as bleak as the darkness we were in before knowing Blake. Would it have been better never to know what I and so many others will now be missing the rest of our lives?
But like that shooting star, Blake did not go without leaving a glowing trail behind him. He did not shine so that he would be glorified — Blake served as a mirror for the light of his Savior. His memory and his legacy live on in the countless people he influenced as he worked to expand God’s kingdom. I now know that at the end of my life, the light at the end of the tunnel will be a little bit brighter because my friend Blake has been added to it. He will be waiting in that light at the end of the tunnel for us all, shining brighter than ever.
The celebration of Blake’s life was held at College Church of Christ on Jan. 26. His family has asked that memorials be sent to The Harding Theatre Department HU Box 12238 Searcy, AR 72149.
