The summer of 1994, my father took ill. My family and I were in Virginia visiting Lynae and her family, at the time. A phone call revealed that dad had cancer... pancreatic cancer, the same cancer that claimed the life of his older sister, just years before.

We were told the odds of two people in the same family contracting this form were astronomical. Odds did not matter, because God had a plan.

Dad was diagnosed in early July. On August 26th, he went home to be with my Father in Heaven.

During his illness, a friend who was a brother in Christ, gave him a masculine looking music box. The kind of piece that would have been at home on a ship's bridge, as it was adorned (as I recall) with similar design. When wound, it offered up "What a Friend We Have in Jesus," as it's treasure.

The piece sat on my father's hospital bed table. We were fortunate enough to have him at home for the last weeks before he passed. I remember dad listening to that song. I remember how ready he was to greet his friend, Jesus. He had led a Christ-like life, and was an incredible example. He went home on his younger sister Maralyn's birthday. I will never forget being at his side as he drew his last breath.

I wish I could remember if it was a birthday or Christmas in which this next thing happened. I cannot even recall if it was that year, or a couple years later. BJ and his grandpa were very close. As I am sure I have shared (forgive me if I repeat myself, please), the ultrasound Deanna had while pregnant with Beej revealed that he was a girl. When he was born, dad was thrilled to have a grandson... his first, and the last he would know.

Anyway, for that special day, my mother gave BJ a very special gift. He unwrapped that same music box. Beej, unlike his dad, seldom cried. This brought forth a torrent of emotion, as he remembered winding it, and listening to it with his grandpa.

I would often hear that box playing it's melody at night after he had scurried off to bed, or during moments alone in his room with the door shut, as he would remember that man who loved him so much.

Not long ago, I found that little melodic memory, stowed in a safe place with other treasures he received from his grandpa. Winding it just one more time, brought back a vision of their times together.

I will never forget being at his side, when he drew his last breath. The music that reminds me most of him is different than that of his grandpa, but the bond and memories they shared in their short years together, will ever be etched within.

The legacy left behind by these two incredible men of God was clearly part of His plan. I don't understand it, nor can I say that I would have done it that way, but His ways are higher than my ways, and for this I am thankful.

I too, look forward to the day when I can greet my friend, Jesus!

dad


Wednesday of this week I have the privilege of speaking to a few students at Mooresville High School. This coming Sunday Lauren is speaking at a church in Marion, In. and that night I will be sharing with student at ECC in Ft. Wayne, In.
I would ask that you would lift up each of the body who hears, that they would discern what the Lord has for them.