Touching Lives Every Day

My father lost his battle with Covid-19 this week, but as a believer achieved life’s greatest victory. He ran his course faithfully. Two other dear friends also entered heaven’s gates—one (Jo Purdy) had been my secretary for 20 years and the other (Jerry Tetreau) had been my high school principal and later ministry colleague as we served together on the board and faculty of IBCS.

These three touched the lives of others on a daily basis but in their own distinct ways. Their lives remind me that the most important things we do in life are not the big shining moments, but rather the “little” things we do every day.

My father gave me gifts every day of my life.

From the earliest time I can remember, he led our family in a daily devotional time. We started our evening meals with prayer and ended them with Bible reading, singing, and prayer. Many times those readings led to substantive discussions about God’s word and pressing life issues. He was a Deuteronomy 6:7 father who taught me while hunting, fishing, driving in the car, or around the dinner table.

Both Dad and Jo taught me how to face adversity by depending on the reality of the presence of God. Jo suffered from severe pain almost all of her adult life. We knew about it but she also faced with an incredibly joyful spirit. She focused on her Lord and others rather than on her pain. Mom and Dad endured the death of my little brother when he was 18 months old and I was ten. Their dependence upon God in that time was a testimony to the reality of God and the comfort only He can give. That trial and how they handled it is one of the reasons I have been in ministry for the last 33 years.

The common factor with all three of these dear people is that the Lord was in their thoughts and speech at all times. They did not speak their own opinions, but with the wisdom that comes from a walk with God and an intimate knowledge of His word. They were all encouragers. I knew that each one of them dearly loved me, and it made me want to be around them.

They lived out the faith with self-sacrificing kindness. My father had a quiet and kind wisdom, yet he would confront when necessary. Our family helped to plant Tri-City Baptist Church and dad was a deacon there under James Singleton for years. Dad told me a story years after Pastor Singleton went to heaven (and in the context of a mistake I was making in ministry). Pastor Singleton could be pretty tough on his staff—and sometimes even in public. On one occasion, Pastor Singleton let his frustration get the best of him and scolded a staff member from the pulpit. Afterward, my dad scheduled breakfast with him. Dad told pastor–and I am sure in his own gentle way–that if he did not make it right, pastor was endangering his ministry. To his great credit, Pastor Singleton heeded the advice and made it right publicly the next Sunday. It was a moment where a quiet man acted boldly and a bold man acted humbly—and God was glorified in the process.

A young boy in our church approached my daughter Emily on Friday and said, “I am sorry about your grandpa. He taught me how to do my devotions.” That was dad. Influencing the lives of pastors and children equally.

Jo’s enthusiasm for heaven was infectious. She planned vacations for the millennium that could only be enjoyed when she would get her new body–free from limitation and pain. She looked forward to them as if they were coming this next summer. She understood pain and could encourage people who were suffering in a way that most could not. She never moped or focused on her trials, but rather chose to think about the beautiful things of God instead (Philippians 4:8). She knew the word better than many pastors I know and knew how to brilliantly apply it to the most difficult circumstances of life. She was a musician and lived in the Psalms.  The godly thinking that contemplation produced in her mind revealed itself in her godly yet impishly humorous words.

Jerry Tetreau made his mark differently. Although a man of many accomplishments, maybe his most endearing trait was his unbridled enthusiasm for life and for his Lord that never wavered, even to the last few months. He was a “can do” guy. He was the guy who could take the big ideas of his visionary senior pastor and enthusiastically find a way to make them happen in real life. We had him to our home one Sunday for dinner and he showed up at the door with an armload of groceries. He asked my wife for permission to use the blender and chuckled as he made fruit smoothies for everyone in the house. He was an “initiative” guy. He did not just want to talk about doing things. If they were worthy, he wanted to get to work. The fruit of his labor remains not only at Tri-City Baptist Church and IBCS, but also in all the ministries and souls around the world won through the influence of its graduates.

Each of these people, in their own way, touched people every day. They lived their lives out of the overflow of their walk with the Lord. They made the people they worked for look good—in the right kind of way. They had no thought of personal ambition or glory, only of glorifying their Lord and loving people in the process.

No matter who you are—quiet and unassuming, joyfully suffering, or all full of energy—you can make a huge difference in the lives of others if you let God live His life through you. I know this. I have witnessed it.