I still remember when your mother told me that you existed. My internal reaction was a mixture of complete joy, and the stunned thought “Of all times, now?!?” We had wanted a second child for quite awhile and for whatever reason it just wasn’t meant to be and we had made a pretty dramatic shift in our future plans. We shifted our focus from a second child to moving to Memphis with our first one so that I could attend preaching school. We both knew that those two years in preaching school were going to be pretty tough on all of us, so the plans for a second child took a backseat to finishing my education. Two weeks after I found out I was accepted to MSOP — and our move to Memphis went from just hopes and dreams to concrete plans — came the Divine spark that created your life. In hindsight, I realize it was meant to be for you to be conceived and born into such an environment, for it would literally define your entire life.
It’s fitting, the third day being such a biblically significant number, that you would make your first appearance in church on the third day of your life — born on Friday morning, attending church on Sunday night. Now you stand in the pulpit of that same church each week while your own child sits in the pew with her mother. When I read the story of little Samuel it stirs up memories of you as a little boy, seemingly born for this life. One of my favorite memories comes from you as such a little boy — you couldn’t have been more than two because we were still living in Memphis — coming to see what I was wearing each Sunday morning so that you could match it as best as possible, right down to wanting your own briefcase to carry your bible and writing supplies. We continually had to buy you little suits and ties because you insisted on dressing like your daddy. Those memories were more than just heart warming moments, they were sobering moments, regular reminders that someone was trying to be just like you, so you better be someone you would want them to become.
As the years piled up, it was always a joy to observe you on our various church events (camp, youth days, VBS, mission trips) because you genuinely loved them so much. You came alive in those environments and visibly pushed yourself to go beyond the bounds of your comfort zone. As a youth leader, you were the epitome of exactly what kind of kids you wanted, those who were all in and taking every thing we did seriously. Even when you were a child, I knew I could count on you as my right hand man because you were always so connected to what we were doing. Most people don’t realize that by the time you were a teenager you had been involved in the planning and operating of our youth ministry for several years.
If there was one thing I had the good sense to do right it was to always make time to slow down and be present with you. I was always aware that time was running away from me, so I had to pursue it and appreciate it because it simply would not last long. We had you in our home for eighteen years, and now you’ve been gone from it for over half as long as you were there. It’s easy to accept that transition because I know we made the most of the time we had. Whether it was our one on one trips out of town during my gospel meetings, or the time just the two of us went to El Salvador without mom and Reese, or our weekly Waffle House trips before school. I knew you were too big for just me, and would one day have to devote your time to a bigger world, but for a brief period I had you to myself and I treasured every moment. When it came time to let you go, it was painful, but it wasn’t hard, because I knew you would come back and would only make our world bigger and better when you did. And, of course, you did; first with Cidney and then with Magnolia.
I am proud of how sincerely devoted you are to the things you believe in. Things like your wife and daughter, your work as a minister in general and to East Hill specifically. From the little boy who was so shy he hid behind his big brother and wouldn’t respond when people asked your name, to a grown man who speaks professionally and has the boldness to stand up to anyone when you believe you are right, you certainly have been a continual source of gratitude and joy for your father.
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