Homecoming ghosts?

Last night I attended the final night of a homing coming revival at Daniel Memorial Baptist Church. It has become a tradition in for this church have this type of event yearly. I think they first started this to try to get some folk who had left this "faith family" to return and maybe to show some people that they still existed.

This is the church I grew up in and my children grew up in so for me this church means a lot. The family of faith is filled with people who were heroes to me because of their examples and their friendship. It provided opportunities to minister to those of need inside and outside to a yong guy that desired to be of service for Christ. Lots of great memories of successes for Christ and wonderful people.

As my Libby began to sing, which always brings a joy to my heart, I began to cry. Yep, I mean the wet kinda crying, that outside, people looking at you kind of crying. Oh, the song was great, better than great, and as she stood at the Holy desk I began to see and feel ghosts of people like Johnny "Kornflakes" Wharton, Cliff Wilson, H L Hutchinson. All great examples for a young guy to model his life after. In front of all those great men was the ghost of a chubby man with silver hair wearing wing tip shoes and thin nylon socks. This guy had on a smile that you could not forget and when he spoke it was a rarity that the topic didn't contain some spiritual lesson or truth that could make life in this world more barable. As my Libby continued to sing those guys began to gather together and while smiling a smile that shown clear of love and admiration they began hug each other. Finally the silver headed guy with the front porch hair style pointed his finger one more time at those who had come to worship. Hemoved that finger across the entire room as to say "see, I told you all this was a special place that God would use."

The song ended and once again the words of a Malone began to bless those who had come out leaving their TVs to worship together and hopefully to see an old friend that they hadn't seem in a long time. This time it was the son of that silver haired man stood to proclaim the gospel. The impact of a father was very evident.

I miss that guy. My best of "friends", my brother, my mentor, my hero. I called him my "Heavy." This world was a much better place when he was in it.