The Resurrection of the Body, the Life Everlasting

Last night Elsa, Heidi and I slept in Eric's room. His posters, medals, trophies and plaques still silently salute his many gifts, interests, and accomplishments. His collection of Eagles are Heidi's favorite. When I look around, I am tesseracted back to childhood. To when there were bunkbeds with bright green coverlets and plush blankets. To waking up and hearing Eric and Kendall yelling "He was here! Santa was really here!" To sprawling out as teenagers talking about school and Star Wars and ordering pizza.

And then I had this dream. We are all laughing together, in a lodge-like room with animal skins on the floors, antlers poking from the walls. Fir trees are visible through the windows. We are gathered around a tomb or a box, Acacia wood. It is empty. The room smells like incense, Cedar. It is firelight. For some reason Edie and her kids are there with us. And then in walks Eric, fresh from the war, alive and bright and golden and laughing. We find out that it was a tragic mistake. He didn't really die; a computer glitch or something was the fault. Oh, how we laughed and cried. Oh, how we hugged him, how we touched him. His hands were the same: small, paw like, always so scarred, with big watches on his wrists. He was in uniform and carrying a pack. He had come such a long, long way.

For just a moment, in my dream, it was like a weight had been lifted. Everything was all right. It could be undone. It could all be undone. And it was all so bright, so fun, so real. We didn't even realize that we had been walking around with such a heavy weight, but now we could actually stand up again, freed from our burden of grief.

I woke to Heidi crying. She had tumbled out of bed. "my forehead hurts," she whispered before she went to sleep.

He so loved the stories of Aslan. I am comforted now by the image of a Lion walking among stone statues, breathing them back to life. I'm not sure exactly what theological eschatological position we Presbyterians take on the Life to come. Perhaps, Eric, you are asleep in Jesus. Perhaps you are standing in the Great Cloud of Witnesses. But I know you are in the presence of the Lord, oh, how I am comforted by his grace and kindness.

I am comforted by resurrection and the Life Everlasting. I am comforted by the fellowship of the Saints, of the Forgiveness of Sins, by the voice of my little sister and the laughter of those I love still here. I am comforted by an Empy Tomb.

Give Thanks to the Lord for He is good. His love endures forever.

A New Little Eric

Eric Joseph
Born 7:20am
April 4, 2009
19 inches, 7 lbs. 5 oz. (Our little peanut!)
Photos to come!


We named him after our friend, Eric Terhune! It was an emotional delivery and we are so thankful that though there has been a parting, God has also brought a new life!

God bless this new baby! To read more about Eric's dear friends, go here.

News Hour

Note from a Brother

The note below is from Noah Stuth, who served with Eric on his last day and whom our family had the privilege of meeting at the 29 Palms Memorial Service, a tribute to Eric and several others who gave their lives last year. Thank you, Noah, for your kind words and for helping us to remember our Hero.





Dear Dan and Joy Terhune,

For the past few days I've been on the road touring prospective schools. This is the first time I've checked my email in a week. I apologize for the tardiness of my response; I hope there are not any time constraints causing undo stress. I would be more than glad to recall the events of Eric's last moments:

On June Nineteenth of 2008, in support of Afghan National Police (ANP) first squad with the attachment of Capt. Eric Terhune ( he was in my truck, 3rd in the patrol order) was on a mission in the Farah province to conduct a raid and capture known Taliban leaders. The primary mission proved futile, but follow-on missions led us to three suspected Taliban cooperatives who the ANP detained.

Between the location of the arrests and our return to base a white sedan fired upon our patrol. Our first two trucks along with several ANP trucks returned fire to the assailant who managed to escape our initail birage of fire. Our squad pursued the fleeing sedan untill it was discovered abandoned in a village on the banks Farah Rud river. There was a blood trial leading from the car into the village. While I directed the men in my tuck to maintain a watchful position near the car on the village a team of Marines, one civilian (Wes Walker), and myself followed the blood trail which yeilded the discover of two discarded RPGs in an irrigation canal, but not the insurgents.

After the initial sweep through of the village, Sgt Rollins and Sgt Swedberg (the squad leaders present) consulted with the ANP leadership and decided to conduct a final, joint sweep of the river bed as it was apparent that our assailants were injured and hiding somewhere in the vicinity.

Lance Corporal Andrew Whitacre, Captain Eric Terhune, and I moved through the village as the rest patrolled through a field adjacent. When appearently all the men were in the open an enemy position fired upon them with heavy small arms fire from a well fortified courtyard. Instantly my team ran out of the village to the field where a majority of the patrol was pinned down. We used the best position available to us to provide cover fire for the pinned-down Marines while Sgt Rollins and Cpl. Flores attempted to maneuver on the enemy position. The two advancing Marines determined entry into the courtyard implausable and retreated under heavy fire. Realizing this Eric, Andrew, and I picked up our fire to alleviate the situation. Rollins and Flores found refuge, but were invariably pinned-down. There were now five Marines and one interpreter unable to defend themselves and vulnerable to enemy fire.

The trucks with the heavy guns couldn't establish adequate suppressing fire at that moment; our only recourse was to call air support. Eric being the foward air controller had two missions now: establish communication with air and provide suppressing fire to protect his fellow Marines. This situation forced him to shoot his rifle and talk on the radio simultaneously which he accomplished by rolling from around a mud wall on top of me between radio transmissions and firing on enemy machine gun positions 75 meters to our direct front. His courage and composure was amazing.

While Eric attempted to talk to air a heavy volley of enemy fire errupted,and he was shot through his side. The injury immediately incapacitated Eric as his body succumbed to shock only seconds after the fact. He was only a few feet from my right side; Hospital Man Rumbles assisted me in moving his body to cover and performed life saving steps, but Eric had already succumbed to his injury.

Bearing witness to Eric's intrepidity and gross selflessness at the time and for the rest of my life was and will be a tremendous inspiration against adversity and imminent danger. If it wasn't for his heroic actions that day I wouldn't be here today along with several others who are. All too often in war the wager for protecting others' lives is to forfeit your own. He made that sacrifice - for that I'm eternally grateful.

Thank you,

Noah Stuth