I didn’t know that I would pause this long when Chester Bennington passed.

Introduced to the band in middle school, I’ve always known Linkin Park as a collective so I didn’t know Chester’s name, even though he was the lead singer. But I learned that he was the voice behind one of my favorite songs, which I now realize came out in 2008 during the undisputed worst year of my life. “Leave Out All the Rest.”

Chester’s pained and passionate request to only remember the good things when he—or whoever—dies always stayed with me.

“When my time comes
Forget the wrong that I’ve done
Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed
And don’t resent me
And when you’re feeling empty
Keep me in your memory
Leave out all the rest”

Listening to the song again, in this context, really has me about to cry. It’s been a while since I played it, but as I do, his voice is so…familiar. It fits right into my memories. I don’t know what to say. When I heard that voice, I didn’t know all the pain that it had been through, as my sudden research has led me to discover. All the things it said and all the things it didn’t. All the things it couldn’t.

The song says sorry for leaving. Please forgive me. Remember the good.

The way he crashes into the chorus after the bridge is both a confession and a request. He’s asking, imploring, begging you that if you’ve never done anything for him before just please remember him when he’s gone.

I’m so sorry to hear of Chester’s death. I’m sorry for his family, I’m sorry for the people who knew his name before I did, and those who woke up to the news like me only to realize that it mattered more than they thought.

The Desire to Matter

“Leave Out All the Rest” stands out to me because of the deep need to matter, to be remembered. That even if I don’t deserve to be remembered, if I did something to, for some reason, not be remembered, that you would still remember me anyway, and that you would leave out all the rest. Maybe help me live the way in death that I couldn’t in life.

This song makes me think that maybe what Chester did this morning was on the edge of his mind for a while and that makes me sad. I didn’t know until a few hours ago all the pain that he had been through. I didn’t know that he took his life on what would have been the 53rd birthday of his good friend Chris Cornell.

I’m sad. I hope that at some point in time someone told Chester about the love of Jesus. That God loves him so much and has a plan for his life. That God sees all the hurt and that He cries for and with him, but that He also has a plan to turn it around. That he can survive it if he puts it all on Him the way 1 Peter 5:7 invites us to do. I hope Chester knew that he was deeply, unconditionally and irrevocably loved by God.

I pray that anyone who feels the way Chester felt up until his last day, or even how I felt in 2008, or maybe even 2009 when I’m pretty sure I felt nothing at all, has the chance to hear all of that: that there is a God who loves them, who created them and is ready to take on the pain. I hope they know that He has a son named Jesus who showed the ultimate act of love when He died for us so that we could be with Him forever. The hurt begs the question of, “Where was God when XYZ happened to me?” In what I’ve seen, He was there; He was always there. And He has a plan for everything, so that there is something positive and impactful to remember when you’re gone. Most of all, you do matter and your absence would be painfully noticed.

I’m not going to pretend to know what Chester was going through. I just know that his song came out during the worst year in my life, a time when our lives probably mirrored each other’s for just a moment. I’m glad that my story didn’t close in 2009 when living felt exhausting and, on some days, not worth it. It’s turned around so now, like I said in “Getting More God Before I Get Got,” my relationship with Jesus Christ is where I find my love, my sense of identity, my confidence, my talent, my purpose, my future, my hope, my peace, my joy, my protection and so much more.

I’m sorry, Chester. I’m sorry that pain won. I pray that for the next person love wins and that they’ll let God take on all the rest.