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.