Legacy is a strange thing. We want people to talk about our great works, our incredible character, our nimble wit, or any other number of wonderful things about us. Certainly he embodied many of these things–he was hardworking, kind, gentle, funny–the list goes on and on. However, as believers, the legacy we leave behind is different. It has to be.

What he leaves behind is the memory of a life lived for Christ. I’m not talking about braving African jungles to reach natives, or sitting in jail because of persecution, but living a quiet, ordinary life extraordinarily. Extraordinary in its faithfulness and perseverance, where now he can say, like Paul, I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith (2 Timothy 4:7). This is what we, as those left behind, can take comfort in and inspiration from.

I will always remember the feel of his hands. He had a firm grip, solid and reassuring. Warm. Holding his hands made me feel safe, especially when he was praying. His voice was steady and deliberate. He tasted his words before speaking them. There was power behind his prayers.

Thank you God, for giving him to us for this short time. Now he is by your side, where you have called him to be. Safe in your arms.

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