Without a Word_ How a Boy's Unspoken Love Changed Everything - Jill Kelly [24]
It was just Jesus—what He did and the power of God’s love working through Him to save me… to save our entire family.
Just Jesus.
I didn’t find the hope I needed in a husband who was as desperate for that hope as I was.
I didn’t find God at a healing mass.
I didn’t discover Him in church tradition I never understood to begin with, or while growing up in parochial school.
I didn’t find Him in my desperate search for hope and meaning in the midst of all my pain.
As strange as it may seem, I caught a glimpse of Him in the midst of my son’s suffering.
I felt Him in the warmth of my tears.
And oddly enough, I heard His call in the stillness of complete silence. I felt His touch when I dropped to my knees.
In Jim’s Own Words
When Jill became a Christian it really didn’t sink in right away. I never hung out with the Christians on the team, so I didn’t know what to expect from her. I remember telling Jill, “You can do whatever you want, but don’t push that stuff on me.”
It didn’t bother me that Jill had turned to God; I just didn’t want her to expect me to change, too. I heard enough about Jesus in the locker room, I didn’t want to hear it from my wife, too. And I sure didn’t want Him pushed on me.
I always felt very uncomfortable around the Christians on the team. Though the guys probably didn’t think they were being overly pushy, they were, and I didn’t like it. They weren’t all that interested in me; they just wanted me to become a Christian.
Except for Frank Reich.
I knew Frank before he gave his life to Jesus. He was my roommate for road games and we spent a lot of time together. “Frankie J” never pushed his faith on me. It’s a good thing, too, because I don’t think we could’ve worked together if he had.
Whenever I heard the guys talking about God in the locker room I tried to avoid the conversation. I had more important things on my mind, like winning football games and going to the Big Tree (a small bar near Ralph Wilson Stadium) with my buddies after practice. I didn’t have time for all that God stuff. And besides, because of Hunter’s disease, I was mad at God. There was no way I was going to be able to hear people when they said, “You’re a chosen father, Jim. Maybe God picked you to be Hunter’s dad because He knew you would do something about it.”
I got so sick and tired of hearing that I was a “chosen father.” Even though I knew people were just trying to encourage me, it didn’t make me feel any better. I didn’t want to accept that the son I’d always wanted, born on my birthday, was sick. Knowing that Hunter would never be able to catch a pass from Daddy or suit up in a bantam football jersey crushed me. I had dreamt about all the things I would do with my son. I planned on us going hunting and fishing as fathers and sons do. I wanted to coach his sports teams and teach him the right way to grip a football. Hunter would never be all I had hoped he would be.
It took a long time for me to realize that good would come from our tragedy. Eventually I did. But even knowing and seeing all the good that came from Hunter’s life doesn’t take away the pain of wishing things could’ve been different.
Initially I tried to run from it all as much as I could. I had retired from the game I love two weeks before Hunter was born. It was perfect timing, really, because I had plans for our family. Shortly after my retirement, NBC Sports wanted to hire me. At first I wasn’t interested, but after Hunter got sick I needed to do something. My job with NBC Sports had me traveling all over the place doing color analysis for games. After two seasons I left NBC and started working for ESPN. I traveled to Bristol, Connecticut, for the show every week and was often distracted with my responsibilities there. Being away from home took my