Anyway.
I miss you.
Remember the summer of 1977 when you led some Young Life leaders in a Bible study? There was a moment I'll never forget... my friend Warren was asking us to hold him accountable to having a morning quiet time. How many, you asked. Warren replied, "I want to start with a small goal - have a quiet time at least three mornings this next week". And you want us to hold you accountable, you inquired. We were each assured, yes.
I wonder if I'll ever know, but I'm pretty sure you prayed hard for Warren that week. Seven days later you casually but purposefully asked him about his quiet times. "I had two morning quiet times this week" was his response. Well, the short of it is this: You railed on him like he had slapped his momma. I thought you were going to barbeque him for lunch! Finally you took a breath and sheepishly Warren dared to ask, "Bob, why are you being so hard on me?" And here is the moment I learned more about following Jesus as a 20 year-old. You said:
"Do you know what time a bank teller goes home every day? She goes home AFTER she has reconciled her money exchanges with the bank customers. If she is one penny short, she will have to find it before clocking out for the day... this is what it means to be held accountable. If you don't want to be held accountable, then you might want to choose a different word next time."
You were a loving, loving, loving hard ass.
On the other hand, I was simply an ass.
But you believed in the Christ in me deeply enough to put me on the YL team at Farragut high school... with you. How God shaped me through you! Your pursuit of the coldest kid, the way you took me with you on meaningless errands, our countless hard conversations. You celebrated the goodness of God in my life and you simply celebrated me. You fathered me to the Father, you brothered me to my brothers, and you showed me the Spirit of God when life was real hard.
You had no care for foolishness. Like a ghost you would show up at the times I was most in need, then in a flash be gone. And I've never known a greater example of servanthood and intentionality.
All that you owned was mine. (Even when I knew you had no money, you sent a $500 check to my son for a summer mission trip to Honduras!)
Almost seven years ago you left us... and again, I miss you.
I long for an integrated life that is half what yours was.
Pray for me if it works that way.
And if it does, I'm sure you are praying hard.
