Today is a day of Sabbath for me.  That means a swim at the gym, a short meeting and then the rest of the day to rest, reflect and reorient.  I am tired from too little sleep, a little cold from the day not being as warm as I would like, and a little muddled about present situations.  At the top of the heap is the mixed emotions surrounding the  death of someone I knew.  To me (and many), more than a someone; a “patriarch” and inspiration, if you will, of the most generous, respectful and merciful kind.  I met him and his wife  ten years ago.  The two of them were an incredible encouragement to me as they crossed generational boundaries and shared the long story of God in their life with me and others.

In the course of time, I had more opportunity to spend time with him.  Whenever I visited, we would inevitably spend more time than originally planned talking and soon, he would be sharing another round of stories with me.  But they were more than stories to me.  At times, they were connecting points, filling in the gaps of my own history as he spoke of people and places that I had also known as a child.  He broadened my perspective way more than he ever knew.

There was also something extraordinary about him.  He defied all the misconceptions of popular “church” and generational boundaries.  He loved God and understood His mission; and that it was HIS mission.  He had been gifted with skills and resources that he used to join God in that mission.  To him, it was never a program or project; mission was a way of life.  I heard it in the conviction of his voice as he spoke to me; I saw it most in his family relationships.  A man of mercy, who understood each person and loved them well.  A gift and example I am slowly growing into.

Seasons change and our connection became sporadic and limited to crossing paths occasionally and greeting each other quietly, though warmly.  In the past few months he had not been well.  Because of my travels, I didn’t know until well after the fact.  And while travelling yet again, I received word of his declining health.  On this past Sunday, though I was 1900 km away, and driving along a coastal highway, I was thinking about him and in my heart I sensed it would be his last day.  I returned home the next evening and received an email that such had indeed been the case.

I am careful these days to not get lost in what I call the “dramatic wanderings” of my mind; careful to not make more of something than what it is, but also just as careful to not make less of it than what it is.  So I sort through not having had the chance to say good-bye to someone who meant more to me than anyone would know yet realizing I hadn’t spent time with him in over two years.  His influence in my life is clear. I am encouraged in my own  journey to continue to believe in and to look for the best in everyone, offer myself generously, and share words of life – the stories of God –  that speak to understanding what a well-lived life looks like; that of embracing the tenderness and hopefulness of a powerful mission of love and grace initiated and sustained by God.

Mmm…

So, farewell for now, dear sir.  One day, I will join you at home and we will share together in the complete story; mission completed.