Yesterday we got an early morning call.  Our friend’s voice on the other end of the line was sober.  “I have bad news.  He’s gone.”  

We felt sad for his family. And for us.  He had been a good friend for over 12 years.  We had spent every other Sunday afternoon with him and his wife for 10 years.  Husband always said of him, “If you have Rod for a friend, you have a friend.”

I remember him spending his 4^th of July at our house helping Husband build a large deck in 100-degree heat.  He never complained about giving up his day off or about the humidity and heat, he just kept plugging along at a daunting job with his smile and good humor.  Then there was the time he carried wood to fill our wood box because Husband was on crutches.

We were in a small prayer group with him and his wife and one or two other couples.  We met in one another’s homes, ate a home-cooked meal together, enjoyed good conversation, and then prayed together.  He never hesitated to admit his struggles, faults, and shortcomings and ask for prayer for himself.  His honesty and lack of ego were refreshing- especially considering that he had a Ph.D., was successful in his career, and held a high leadership position in his church.   

I remember him taking time off work to deliver an aspirin to his daughter in high school when she didn’t feel good.  Did I mention that he gave up his living room so she would have a large room to practice her beloved dance?  When he was in his sixties, he pushed himself to play the demanding game of LaCross with his son so he could share his son’s interest.  Even though suffering from the lung disease that would take his life, he made a cross-country trip to visit his other son and his wife so he could hold their newborn baby.  This son lived at a high elevation which put an extra strain on his already compromised lungs, but he willingly put aside his own comfort to participate in his son’s life.

He adored his wife and complimented her in front of us regularly.  He supported her selfless care of those around her even when it meant she was gone to help others.  He never once bragged about his own success, but often made much of his wife’s accomplishments.

He faithfully taught a large first grade Sunday School class and reveled in getting to know the children.  He would chuckle about their antics.  He took his role as elder of a mega-church very seriously.  The hours of meetings, the burdens of others that he carried, the heartache of disciplining those who betrayed their post by immorality, the weight of decision making he carried with grace and dedication.

We two or three couples met every other Sunday afternoon to pray together for nearly ten years and never once did I wonder what mood Rod would be in, or whether he would have time to listen to our prayer requests.  He was completely dependable to be kind and compassionate, praying fervently for our family year in and year out.  You don’t get many friends like that in your lifetime.

He loved to restore vintage vehicles, and even in that he included others- his son, the neighbor boy, chatting, instructing and never expecting any real help.  The only time his Ph.D. ever came up was a hat that was given to him that read, “Dr. Rod’s Hot Rods”.

He was hard-working and compassionate toward his clients all of whom were disabled.  One of the few times I had ever seen him worked up was when he discussed ‘pain clinics’ that were dispensing habit-forming medications willy-nilly.  After becoming drug dependent, people experienced great loss in their quality of life.  He had a heart for hurting people.

As his disease progressed and he was able to do less and less, he was honest about his struggles emotionally and physically.  He didn’t minimize the severe trial he was enduring as a man in his mid-sixties losing the things he enjoyed.  His candor and lack of sugar-coating helped those around him enter into his sufferings and come alongside to support him as he had always supported them.  He never pretended.  He wasn’t trying to prove his spirituality.  In his last days he displayed his wisdom by inviting trusted friends to come and encourage him to finish his last breaths with faith and dignity.  They counseled him, read him Scripture, prayed with him, played his favorite worship music, and stood with him as he had faithfully stood with others.  He came into great peace on his last night on this earth. He slept well until he awoke just before daybreak, took his last weak breaths, and awoke in that land of eternal day with his beloved Savior.

I’m wondering if the Lord took him home early because he knew Rod had already learned the lessons of this life and was ready for his reward.  Rod has left a raw and gaping hole in the lives of his family and friends.  But we don’t begrudge him the happiness and health he is enjoying as I write this.  I know Jesus met him with the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”  I know where he is there are no more struggles, weakness, shadows, or fear.  He has entered into indescribable relief, enjoyment, celebration, and the capacity to enjoy all the good things of Heaven.  We would never wish him back.  We do envy his undisturbed happiness.  We are proud of him and treasure his contribution to our lives.  And we look forward to celebrating with him in that bright place.  So the bad news we got isn’t such bad news after all.  His death was only bad news for us.  It was good news for Rod. 

“The master was full of praise. ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together!’  Matthew 25:21

And now, a word to you who are elders in the churches. I, too, am an elder and a witness to the sufferings of Christ. And I, too, will share in his glory when he is revealed to the whole world. As a fellow elder, I appeal to you:  Care for the flock that God has entrusted to you. Don’t lord it over the people assigned to your care, but lead them by your own good example.  And when the Great Shepherd appears, you will receive a crown of never-ending glory and honor.  1 Peter 5:1-4

What do you want people to remember about you when you’re gone?