A Day of Remembering and Aiming High

It is almost time again. A time to remember. A time to mourn. A time to fulfill at least half of the "times" listed in Ecclesiastes. March 9, 2004 was a very sad day in my life. I will never forget it. As I type, I can't believe how much it still hurts. My head wants to explode from trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over on the keyboard. It will be 3 years to the day at approximately 1 a.m. that my dad passed from this life. He had muscular dystrophy and succumbed to the disease on the fateful day. I was there when he breathed his last breath. It was something I never thought I would have to go through in my whole life. I had somehow always escaped the clutches of tragedy, yet my father's passing was the epitome of tragic. The happy ending was in how he had chosen to live his life and GIVE his life to God and His work. It is truly mind boggling to think of all of the lives that this one man touched, but he was able to accomplish amazing things in his too-short life. He was a pastor, but not just any old pastor, a shepherd would be a more fitting description. He loved people and it was evident in how he poured himself unselfishly into every last person that would allow him. He was not a "convention speaker", but he had a speaker system in the back of a truck and would drive around the worst neighborhoods in town, preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ. I grew up in the shadow of greatness, but it took his passing for me to realize the extent of it. He was so humble, not very easy to make laugh, but burdened for souls like nobody I have every come in contact with. As the hundreds and hundreds of people touched by this amazing man filed past his earthly vessel lying in a casket, I realized that I now knew what I wanted to be when I grew up - I want to be like my Dad.