This weekend began with a memorial service for someone I cared about greatly. I had not known him for very long, but he was a person that helped me and even my marriage on occasion. He loved the study of the Bible and could put his thoughts into words very well. I wish that he had blogged his bible studies, I would love to have them in soft copy form.

He worked as a chaplain at a truck stop here in town. He was part of the Transport for Christ organization that made it happen. He used to knock on trucker’s doors on Sunday morning just to let them know that a service was going on if they wanted to join in. Some truckers did not appreciate being awakened, some really did. I think about the impact he had on others and it amazes me.

As a part of his memorial service, I heard about his conversion from the person that baptized him. I met Harold and spoke to him briefly. He is sending me the study series he used. I also heard about his wife’s conversion and the prayers for his children. His oldest is a little younger than me – I had met him once before. He played a violin solo for his father to his memory.

The last part of the service was the communion service he gave on September 26. At that point, he knew that things were looking grim. I spoke to him afterwards and he confided in me some hopes for his family. Having met them again, I believe that most of them have been realized. It’s not because of me at all – it’s because of the families that welcomed he and his wife with open arms and visited him. Sadly, I never made it to his home.

Joel pulled me aside and told me that I had helped him feel a part of the church in a big way. I cried when I heard it, mostly because I do not believe it entirely. I cried a lot on Saturday, but it was a very good thing. I believe that he is awaiting the resurrection, like me, but that in the meantime, he is in a good place. As Harold and other family members have shared, we imagine that he is asking a lot of questions and really excited to know the answers.

If you read blogs from where you are, TJ, look up my friend Malcolm Ryan. He’s around there somewhere either playing a sax or playing spades.