When you woke up this morning, what was immediately on your mind? Many of us might have simply been looking forward to our first cup of coffee and wondering what the day could bring. For others, it might have been a strong desire to press snooze one more time and delay the coming responsibilities we face. Or perhaps you didn’t even make it to the alarm as a needy child ended your night’s sleep prematurely, and you tended to their needs instead of your own.
I read once that for many military spouses whose significant others are deployed, the time just after waking is often filled with dread and anxiety about what the day’s events might bring. That is understandable. Since it’s doubtful that anyone would choose dread and anxiety as a way to start the day, perhaps there is some scientific explanation about those military spouses and their brains’ early morning focus that I don’t know about.
But I do know this: If you have reason to worry about the worst, that fear can be very painful. And if you have faced actual loss, grief is nonnegotiable.
Unfortunately, some of Tennessee’s hardest working people are currently experiencing deep pain and searing grief after the loss of one of their brothers. Electric lineworkers have difficult and dangerous jobs. The work involves physical labor that taxes their bodies. The work exposes them to many hazards, both manmade and natural. Despite extensive training and focus on safety, sometimes bad things do occur.
In late July, Nathan Potter began his day at home in Bean Station and headed out to work as he had done for many years. I don’t know what specifically was on his mind that morning, but as a journeyman lineworker at Appalachian Electric Cooperative, Nate was well-trained and knew that his job is essential to the community.
While lineworkers are not often appreciated or recognized for the work they do, they are critical to the way you and I live. Think through your own morning routine, and tell me what part doesn’t involve electric power. These unsung heroes are all around us and perform their jobs in relative anonymity without any real need for praise or attention. Most of the lineworkers I know prefer it that way.
But sometimes life is not fair. Accidents can happen. And the worst outcome can arrive in places where it does not belong. Nate suffered an accident that morning while working. And it took his life.
His friends, coworkers, church family and countless others felt the immediate and extra sharp pain that an unexpected loss brings. For his precious family, worry about the worst was replaced with unspeakable grief, and the joy that should cometh in the morning might not be experienced for some time to come.
But as was noted in his obituary, “Nathan’s life was also filled with the joy (emphasis added) of being a husband and a father of three wonderful daughters.” Big Nate was beloved and touched all those around him. He served his fellow man with honor and dignity through his profession, his church, his friendships and so much more. The legacy he leaves behind is one of honor, devotion, dedication, duty and joy — a life well-lived and worthy of praise.
For Nate’s wife and three young children, however, there is no snooze button that can delay the grief they are experiencing. Many a night will stretch into the morning as their emotional needs are cared for.
So I pray that those quiet moments at the first of each day would strengthen Nate’s family with the peace that passes all understanding. And I ask that you join me in doing so — today and for the years to come.
