Mike

I mentioned my friend, Mike in my post yesterday. I didn’t really know what to say about him then, other than he was too young when he died, but now, after reading what Erin wrote about him on her blog and Trey’s eulogy of him, I thought I’d offer my words.

Mike was strong. I want to say that right off the bat. Even though he wasn’t a body builder-type guy, he looked like he could lift a cow if you needed him to. (Actually, if that occasion arose, he would probably go look at the cow, analyze the situation, assess whether he could really lift the cow, and then offer several ways that we could lift the cow, together.) Mike was so strong, that’s one reason why his death hit me like a brick. I mean, he dropped dead in his sleep. Out of all the people who you might think something like that would happen to, he was the absolute last person.

Besides being physically strong, though, Mike was strong in a spiritual sense. This was a man who ministered with every breath he took. He loved and served teenagers every day, especially the boys out at the workshop. Even when he wasn’t allowed to serve next to me in the youth group anymore, he was always there, walking alongside the kids he’s been torn away from. The last time I saw Mike is imprinted on my mind. I’d been running late to Wednesday night activities at church because of a work commitment and I was afraid that I was going to be late for youth. I thought, “If I’m not at dinner, the kids will all leave before youth.” So I was speeding, and worrying, and when I burst into the fellowship hall, a full 20 minutes late for dinner… Mike was there, sitting at the table with the few youth who still go to that church. I should have known. No one could keep Mike from serving those kids. That’s how strong he was. He continued to come to that church even after they slandered his name, after they had told lies about him all over town and ripped him out of youth ministry. He and Bev stand in my hall of saints, of the bravest people I know. They walked into that church with heads held high week after week, even though it was a pit of vipers.

Mike was generous. I mean, he was always giving to those in need. When my old car was breaking down all the time, he didn’t stop until I had the title to a new one in my hand. I am not joking about this. He (along with my dear friend, Barb, who deserves her own blog entry) found me an affordable new car, found me a way to pay for it, and when that didn’t work out, he found people to pay for it. (I’m pretty sure he chipped in a few of his own dollars as well.) It feels so tiny and trivial to talk about now that he’s gone, but every time I look at that car, I think of him. It was hard getting into it that first day he was gone, but now it’s a good thing. I don’t ever want to get rid of it, because it always makes me think of Mike.

Mike was a do-er. If he saw something that needed to be done, he did it. When he saw a young man in need of a father, he became that boy’s father. When he saw me in need of a car, he got it for me. When he saw a problem in our church… he was there. There was no stopping Mike when he was on course. Some people thought of that as impulsiveness, or rebellion, or pigheadedness, but I didn’t. I thought of it as him standing up for the little guy, of him not taking injustice sitting down. That was something else about Mike- he would always stand up for what was right, good, and Scriptural. He was all about the truth.

I could go on and on about what a good man Mike was, but I think you get the point. I don’t want it to seem like I’m only saying nice things about him because he’s dead, because that’s not what it’s like at all. Mike was all these things and more. What’s most important about Mike was the way he lived his life. He lived by the Word. He followed Christ with every step and with every breath. He showed God’s love to everyone, not just the people who made it easy for him or who “deserved it.” He was my father, my brother, and my friend, and I miss him horribly. I know I’ll see him again someday, and I can’t wait. So I guess there is a bright side, because as Barb said, “at least we don’t have to be worried about where he is.” I know that I’ll see Mike again, and that’s my good thought.