Those Left Behind

It's early in the morning, Sunday March 13th, 2011. Daylight Savings Time happened in the middle of the night and I actually lost an hour, however, I woke early for some reason.

I woke up having a dream... and thought it'd be interesting to immediately type down what was on my mind... my ponderings. Could be strange, so buckle up:

I was dreaming about all the people that I'm closest to. My family. My friends. My co-workers. I saw each of their faces and I started thinking about the possibility of never seeing them again. In three short days I'll be flying to the other side of the world for two weeks. Where I'll be traveling (Japan & the Philippines), have just suffered a natural disaster, and things are a little 'uneasy'. Whenever I'm about to leave for a trip like this one, the morbid side of me begins to imagine the idea of dying on the mission field. Of course, we're all going to die one day and I can't think of a better way in which I'd want to go, but I start wondering about those I'd leave behind.

My wife and children are awesome... and I'm sure they'd miss me. I was thinking about what I'd want them to remember about me. It's funny how that question makes me want to be a better person and show my love to them more. I feel I was so much better at being a Dad when my kids were little. Now that they're bigger, I often feel lame... and unsure. I hope they'd know that I was proud of each of them and thought they were all so fun... and perfect.. and weird in the coolest way possible.

My wife would probably miss me most. I say that... because we're best friends... and if one of us were suddenly gone, the other would literally be only half a person. I can't think of being apart from her or her being apart from me without tears streaming down my face... so I'll stop typing now about that.

My co-workers amaze me. I don't know how I pulled off being able to work with those that I love so dearly and respect so greatly. That's rare... and I know it. Each of them, I've watched, have gone through personal, and at times, unimaginable, tragedies. From Jeanne Hewitt losing parents and/or watching them suffer with sickness, to Bil Brown walking through the valley of the shadow of death with his own father's cancer, to Jon Petersen lovingly caring for his son who struggles with so much, to my wonderful secretary, Gay, who has dealt with ridiculous amounts of adversity in her personal life - they each amaze me. Consistently, right smack-dab-in-the-middle of hell, I watch each of them be faithful... to Jesus. It's like they have this attitude where, even though they're hurting, they say, "Yeah... life sucks some times, but what am I supposed to do... give up? Am I supposed to stop loving the Beautiful Lover of my soul? No way!"

How did I get so blessed?

I have other friends too. Friends whose faces popped up in my dream. Elders, piano players, work-out partners, men who would work on my home and use their skills simply because they love me. Friends who will share a bottle of wine with me and laugh at all my stupid stories. Men and women I love so much... I simply can't explain it.

Then there's Desperation Church. Not the building... the many hundreds of people that I see each weekend. Some of them I don't even know their names... but I saw their faces in my dream. Each with a story... each messed up... each with a shared passion... each always willing to give a hug and a word of encouragement. Each willing to love unconditionally and pray for a strange and bumbling pastor fervently.

I dreamed of those I'm closest to... of those I'd leave behind if something weird were to happen. The dream didn't make me sad, it made me proud... and happy... and thankful to God.

Truly, I'm a blessed man. I say that, and I know I'm not dreaming. I'm simply living a dream life.