Somber.

The halls of my high school have been eerily quiet over the past two days.

Friday night, as I studied frantically for my certification exam, I got a text message from a friend about a wreck involving several members of our track team-- students, a team helper, and a parent. The text indicated that there was a possible death and multiple injuries.

Of course, my first thought was that it was surely exaggerated. Maybe there was a wreck, but surely the rumors had already begun to spin and grow.

Soon after, though, I started getting a string of texts from students and friends confirming the rumor-- one student had been killed on impact, one student had broken an arm and sustained a serious neck injury, one student and the parent driving left unscathed, and the team helper/assistant coach broke an arm and a leg.

Immediately, my Twitter feed and Facebook news feed exploded with thoughts and prayers for all those involved. This is the first tragedy to hit our student body in years-- possibly since the loss the senior class had when I was a sophomore in high school.

Prom was Saturday night, and the junior class, along with the seniors, was able to come together and celebrate the life of their classmate. There was a candlelight vigil and a moment of silence during which students wrapped their arms around each other, shed silent tears, and lifted up their hearts and their candles to say goodbye to Kevin.

Over the last two days, the halls have been somber and quiet. A classmate's desk remains empty other than a bouquet of flowers placed by a teacher. A seat at lunch left untouched. An event at track meets painfully filled in by another. And other classmates still in the hospital awaiting surgery.

It's been a very tough time at my high school, but it's been equally touching. The students have pulled together like I've never seen before. Huddled in hallways, crying. Meeting in the auditorium to pray, Bibles in hand. Reaching out to ministers who have graciously stayed on campus in our time of need.

The road ahead is tough for this class, this faculty, and most especially, this family. Kevin leaves behind three brothers and a mother, all of whom will struggle in the months and even years to come to make sense of this loss in their lives.

At the end of the day, it leaves this school counselor humbled and glad to serve a God who is sovereign, who reigns even in tragedy, and who is glorified even in heartache. Please pray for the Yoder family and the students and faculty at GHS.