My Friend George, Part 2

George served over 200 women at a dinner the night before he died. He wore his tux and polished his bald head I am sure. Here is a pic of George doing what he did best only hours before he died.

I have so much more that I want to say about my friend George. I have really struggled with his passing, teetering between my desire to no longer hurt and my desire to never forget who he was and what he meant to humanity. It seems that right now I can't have one without the other. I know that the word "humanity" seems to be a strong word to use, but George reminds me of something that Rob Bell talked about in one of his books. Bell talked about how the world needs Christians- the world is a better place because of Christians (true Christians whose lives look strangely like the life of Jesus- full of love, sacrifice, and a hatred for injustice). The world didn't need George, but the world was and is so much better off because of George.

:: Who George Was to Me ::
As I mentioned in an earlier post, on my flight home from Jacksonville I jotted down some thoughts in my journal. I offer it to those who may find comfort or inspiration, not from my words, but from George.
12/10/07
George was strong for us when we needed strength. He always seemed to be good at standing up for people who seemed to have been made cripple. He loved justice. He hated injustice. He loved truth and integrity. He hated lies, deceit, and shallow living. He LOVED his wife Sandy. He ADORED his son Stephen. He felt it a privelege to minister to church staff. He was a minister to ministers. He had as strong a mind as he did a hug and a handshake. He was put off by weak-minded Christians who sought comfort before Christ. He was not afraid to touch. He would give a great big bear-hug, a firm handshake, and a knock-the-wind-out-of-you pat on the back. He would tell you that he loved you and that he would be there if you ever needed anything. (And he would emphasize words like "ever" or "anything"). He loved life and he didn't let his circumstances define who he was. After his funeral, I looked through his well-worn Bible with about a thousand ribbon markers (marking his favorite passages) and it said in Philippians 4 (he had written a side note): "Be independent of your circumstances."
Sometimes he would say things that seemed trite for a Christian to say like, "God said it. That settles it." And because it was George who said it, I believed it too. His life backed it up. And it was not trite.
He would not embrace or settle for weak faith. His God was and is strong. His view of God broadened my view of God.
He spent his last day serving over 200 ladies at a dinner that was partly organized by Sandy (his wife). Tim Tebow's mom was the guest speaker. Tebow won the Heisman Trophy 4 days later. George, I am told, wore his 7-year old tux and he would not leave until the last table had been cleaned and put away (this was typical George fashion). George labored to show people that they were important, that they mattered to God- and that meant that they mattered to him as well. George never saw someone as a lost cause.
One of his favorite things to say when the means to an end seemed absurd was "That dawg won't hunt." His timing was impeccable. He had a great sense of humor. He was really good at dishing it out on me. I am not really quick-witted. Part of my personality and sense of humor is that I am really really slow (at times people have honestly wondered if there was something mentally wrong with me!) Every now and then, I would think that I had a "good one" to dish out on George. I would roll it out, and then he would send something right back at me tenfold. At times it had to do with being a momma's boy or maybe even the fact that I don't shower and I only take bubble baths. Okay just kidding about the bath thing- but George had a hidden arsenal waiting for the right time to be released on me. And I wouldn't trade the battles in for anything.
I think I will end it here- right when you begin to see that he had a love for life, for faith, for friends, for justice, and for laughter. More to come later this week- because I want to tell you some of the things that George taught me about faith and life . . .

Time-Out!

If you want to add a little funk soul brother to your Christmas music mix, check out Shawn Lee's Ping Pong Orchestra's Christmas album called A Very Ping Pong Christmas: Funky Treats From Santa's Bag. You will thank me later. It's not Bing Crosby, but it will make you want to get down with your bad self this holiday season. Merry Christmas yizzizzall!

My Friend Earl

My Buddy Earl and his wife Shirley on our trip home from Florida in September of 2005
On our way to the airport on Sunday to fly to Jacksonville to attend George's funeral, Jessica and I had to stop by and see our good friend Earl. He was at his house and on his death bed. The family had been called in to be at his side and to pay their last respects. Earl passed away around 1:30 am on Tuesday. He went peacefully. He loved the Lord.

Earl was a good friend. He and Shirley were wonderful neighbors to my parents and he quickly became a grandfather of sorts to me. It was said of Earl at the funeral today that he was much like Barnabas, from Scripture. Barnabas was called "Son of Encouragement." That was the perfect way to describe Earl. Every time I was with him, I felt special. I never wondered about how much I mattered to him. He was a man who was not afraid to say kind words, tell you he loved you, and give you a hug. He was a good man. He is with the Lord right now. Today he is in heaven riding a sweet John Deere Tractor across his neighbor's yard just so they would know that he loves them. He is also saying strange sayings like, "That'll make a train want to take a dirt road." I had no idea what he meant with his sayings. He did. That's all that mattered. I tried to make some up on my own, but they didn't have the flare that his did.

Earl spent countless hours working on my Chevy Z-71 truck when I was in college. I stood around acting like I knew what we were doing, but all that mattered was that Mr. Miaggi was going to work on my truck. I would go off-roading and mess something up on my truck, and he would always open the hood and look at me and shake his head with an eye-brow raised and say, "O boy. Not good." He was normally joking. He thought it was funny to hear me say, "How much is this gonna cost me?"

Selfishly, one of my greatest regrets in life is when we were scheduled to go camping and fishing together in Wyoming. It would be my first time to go on a trip together with Earl. He was a man's man. He could wrestle a bear with his bare hands and he could catch trout with his teeth. He could start a camp fire with his breath and he slept with his eyes open. Okay, not really, but he was a man's man. He was going to be our guide on our trip to Wyoming. The Walkers had never been to Wyoming before. Earl had, and we were excited to have him share his love for the state with us. A week before we were supposed to leave, he had a stroke, and through the stroke they discovered that he had brain cancer. My regret is that Earl didn't get to go to Wyoming with us. 3 and a half years later, we stood at his grave site, wondering "Why Earl?", and still trying to grasp the last 42 months. It seems surreal still.

Today was a cold and wet day. I am going to miss my friend Earl. But one day, Jess and I will stand with Earl and Shirley- the ones that made the trip to Birmingham Alabama to see us get married- and we will witness the pinnacle of all marriages. The marriage between the Bride and the Bridegroom. Jesus Christ and his Church. We are seriously going to have a good time. And Earl will drag the golden strip on his John Deere and George will sell him some emergency lights for his tractor, and we are all going to laugh and sing to the great and glorious King, Jesus Christ. I can't wait to see my friends again. I can't wait to see my King.

My Friend George

George flying a kite at a church tailgating party. His wife Sandy is in the background. He was truly a kid at heart.

I find myself wanting to tell everyone about my friend George and what he meant to me. It sounds somewhat shallow to talk only about what he means to only me- he meant so much to Jessica too. And his precious wife, Sandy, and his son, Stephen...they are so special to us. But I think I am going to blog about George and how much he, personally, meant to me, personally. He is so worth knowing, and I want to show others what I learned from George. And for those who are in Christ, you will surely recognize that I learned from Christ himself, through a mighty instrument named George Thorne.
I will try to keep my posts fairly short each day that I blog, but get ready, because I think I have at least a week's worth of notes that I have journaled- some notes from the plane trip home, some from the airport, some from my house. Notes with tears, for I have lost a good friend.
:: My Earliest Memories of George ::
I am not sure when the first time was that I officially met George. That's pretty normal for me. I don't remember the first time I met my parents or my brothers (I was pretty young, I think). And I can probably only tell you a handful of people in my life that I remember meeting for the first time. My wife is one of them. I am the kind of person that has to get to know someone before I can remember their name.
God has slowly and graciously brought memories of George back to my mind, so hopefully some day soon I will be able to recall the first time I met George. I don't know why it's so important to me- it just is.
But there are conversations that I can recall with George that marked me- in a good way. I believe the first time was in February or early March of 2005- I was on my way to St Luke's hospital in Jacksonville to visit one of our church members who was having surgery. I remember having a few minutes to spare and I was hungry, so I went into a Chick-Fil-A. I got a phone call right after I ordered, and on the other end was a deep, somewhat unfamiliar voice. "You just can't get away from me. I am always watching you." It was George. He was sitting down, reading the paper, drinking coffee, and smiling because he had oh-so-cleverly startled me. I sat down with George and after our conversation, I knew that I had a friend for life. Sometimes you can just tell. He told me that he felt it was his calling from God to serve and protect pastors in his church. That's where I will end this blog entry. Right at the part where you begin to realize that he LOVED serving, he LOVED protecting (he was a retired cop), and he LOVED the Church. That's just who he was.

Rain

I have experienced many beautiful years in life, but this 2007 brought some rain. The forecast this week: cloudy, cold and drizzly. My good friend George Thorne was killed in a car wreck on December 5, 2007. I will miss him dearly. I am sitting in the airport in Charlotte awaiting my connecting flight home from the funeral. I have one more funeral to attend this week. I received the text message from my mom today that my close friend and grandfather figure, Earl Baker, passed away at 1:30 this morning. We were all expecting it. He was diagnosed with brain cancer over 3 years ago. He was a good man. This kind of pain is new to me. I have never experienced pain like the pain I have had over the last few months. But better days are ahead. To steal the words of my good friend George, "Live independent of your circumstances." And even better, "God is good. He told me so. I believe it." I believe it too.

What I want

I want to treasure Christ above everything else in my life. The reason is so the world will see how beautiful God is. I haven't posted in a while, so I felt it was necessary to blog today. God has been dealing with me by asking me this question: "What have you done with the life I have given you?" I am not guaranteed tomorrow. I just found out that a friend of mine in Florida was killed in a car wreck last night. Events like that force you to place things into perspective. I am pressed by the question once again, "Did you make your life count, Kyle?" I have wasted too much of my life treasuring things that will not last. May Christ be everything to me.
"I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish that I may gain Christ." -the apostle Paul, Philippians 3:8