After church today, I asked one of the men how he was doing. (I won’t name him because it might embarrass him.) He said, “Okay, but I miss the pastor.” Pastor Wayne died two months ago.
This pastor had led him to the Lord about a year or so ago. He is in his sixties and now single after a difficult divorce. Pastor Wayne had called on him and in his rather direct way asked him if had ever given his life to God. He said, “No.” So the pastor asked, “Would you like to?” “Yes, “he said.
Pastor then prayed a prayer and had him pray something like it after him. It was all pretty simple and unemotional. One never quite knows if this kind of conversion is going to “take”. Although he doesn’t say much, he keeps coming to church. His gray hair is neatly combed and he always sits in the same seat in the back.
Today as we talked out in front of the church, I could tell he was a little troubled. He squinted and said, “The pastor was kinda like a father to me. I could talk to him.” This seemed a little odd because there couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen years difference in their ages. They were both grandfathers.
As a kind of explanation, he added, “He was one of the only people who has been proud of me.” At that moment, he looked like a boy who lost his parents at a shopping mall.
I told him, rather lamely, “I’m proud of you too!” But he said nothing in response, so I said, “Yes, the pastor was a good guy. I miss him too.”
After an awkward silence, I said, “Well, you keep walking with the Lord.”
He looked down and the up into my eyes and said softly, “I will.”
