Tag Archives: Joy

Seven birthdays without you (An open letter to Dad)…

by

Dear Dad,

I know I don’t blog much anymore, but I thought I would take the time to write this letter to you. I miss you more than words can say. Today is now my seventh birthday without you. The first was just six days after your passing, and in the blink of an eye, today marks seven without seeing your smile. The last blog I published on here was a letter I wrote to you marking six birthdays without you. And now it’s seven.

Okay. Dad, this is going to be an emotional letter but let me pause for a moment for some lighthearted humor. I just said the numbers six and seven back-to-back. 6-7! I know if you were here, you would find ways to irritate me with those numbers just as much (if not more) than my students. That’s one of the things I miss most about you, your sense of humor.

Since my last letter to you, I have been blessed with so many adventures, filled with amazing people who have blessed me beyond measure. On New Year’s Eve 2024, I went to the Texas Bowl in Houston with some friends to watch the Baylor Bears play the LSU Tigers. Baylor lost a thrilling game, but the experience reminded me of the love of college football you shared with me. I miss college football Saturdays and bowl seasons with you.

The year 2025 presented itself with countless blessings. I’m not sure where to begin, so let me begin by talking about my students. I wish I could share with you countless stories of students who have shared so much joy with me over the years. I spent the early months of 2025 going to as many girls’ basketball games as I could to cheer on former students who bring me so much joy. I watched with excitement as students broke records and made an awesome playoff run.

I have also watched with excitement this year students of mine compete in baseball, softball, volleyball, and football, and soon, I will get to cheer on amazing students in soccer. I have also seen radiant joy in students’ faces as they have performed in musicals and choir concerts. When I see students in the hallway, I always try to encourage their endeavors. One student in particular would visit her former teacher, and I would say, “Are you staying out of trouble?” To which she would reply with a bright smile, “I’m never in trouble, Mr. Stewart!” I also got to see the joy in students when I joined other teachers as an extra in the school’s Fall musical.

But as much fun as I have had encouraging students outside of my classroom, I have experienced even more joy in the classroom. My freshmen and junior English students have shared jokes with me, have made me laugh, and they have encouraged me in their work. They have written poems about their faith, shared stories about the challenges they have faced in life, and they have expressed their hopes and dreams they wish to achieve in life. In one class, we even got to witness history when I had a livestream of the announcement of a new pope. That was cool!

Not only have I had the privilege of teaching freshmen and junior English, but I have also had so much fun teaching ESL classes for students working to improve their skills in a second, or in some cases, a third language. These students have faced so many challenges in their young lives, arriving from various corners of the Earth, and now they are in my classroom, and I am their teacher.

Every day they come to class, they arrive with smiles and such an eagerness to learn. They smile and laugh when we do our verbal English warmups. I enjoy watching their progress in learning English. And there are even moments when they share their humor with me despite language barriers. Sometimes, laughter can come simply from smiles and finger pointing.

And if ever I should have doubts about my calling to teach others, my students find ways to encourage me and lift me up. My English and ESL students have written me kind letters and cards telling me that I am their favorite teacher or that they love being in my classroom. My goal every single day is to remind all my students that they are welcomed, loved, and safe in my classroom. I tell them daily, “And remember, you are AMAZING!”

I have been so incredibly inspired by my students this past year. It was a joy to see so many of them walk across the stage, receive their diplomas, and take pictures with them on the field. And if that weren’t enough, a former coworker of mine from another school district invited me to her daughter’s graduation party. I had taught this wonderful student and her friends during their 6th grade year as their Social Studies teacher the year before I went to seminary.

I enjoyed seeing their faces at this graduation party and during their senior walk, some with puzzled looks as they asked, “Mr. Stewart? Do you remember me?” I replied, “Of course I do,” before calling each of them by name. To this day, they still encourage me and remind me why I fell in love with teaching in the first place. I even got to see a former student perform in local musical!

But if I may circle back to my current teaching position, one of the greatest honors came from an ESL student who invited me to her bilingual church in May. Of course, I did not hesitate to respond with a firm yes! This kid has encouraged me beyond what words can express. In class, she constantly reminded me to persist in my faith. Her story is one of many of resilience in face of daunting challenges. I have been to her church repeatedly enough that now, they consider me part of their church family. And what a joy it was to preach at one of their Sunday services right before Thanksgiving.

And speaking of churches, I still occasionally preach at a small Presbyterian church while visiting my Baptist church family in Waco. I also began worshipping regularly with a Methodist congregation in January. These amazing believers of the Wesleyan tradition have prayed over me and my students, and they have given me so many supplies for my classroom. Along with the Pentecostal church of my student, I continue to enjoy the company of Baptist, Methodist, and Presbyterian brothers and sisters. And what an amazing display of what heaven will be like, with people of all backgrounds worshipping Christ Jesus!

If that still was not enough to give me joy, I also occasionally visited my seminary for the Truett Black Seminarian Association’s Holy Week service, the African American Preaching Conference, and to see a friend be installed as a new pastor of his church in Waco. Also, one of my seminary friends invited me to a Baylor football game a few months ago, so Sic ‘Em Bears!

Dad, there is so much more I want to share with you. I went on my first solo, interstate road trip. Road trips are different without your company. Before visiting a close friend in Kentucky, I travelled to Indiana to see your niece, my amazing cousin, Taya, get married. She was beautiful in her dress, and I know that you were so proud of your nieces and nephews. I know Uncle Michael and Aunt Karen miss you dearly. It was a joy to visit with them during an occasion of such joy! I also wish I could tell you about my adventures with Paige, Shayla, Mikayla, Chris, and Isaac. They continue to encourage me and share with me immense joy!

Dad, I wish you were here so that I could tell you all of this in person. I miss you more than words can say. You were my best friend, and life is harder without you here. And yet, I carry this faith in Christ that you shared with me. I am reminded of Bill and Gloria Gaither’s hymn, one you sang to me often when I was little, “Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. Because He lives, all fear is gone. Because I know, He holds the future. And life is worth the living just because He lives!”

I love you, Dad, with all my heart, beyond description. Until we meet again, see you later, Superman!

Love,

Joshua

*Now, because so many wonderful people in my life speak Spanish, I am going to include a translation of this open letter. Now, to be honest, I know very little Spanish, so I am asking ChatGPT to help. Apologies ahead of time if the translation isn’t perfect!

*Como muchas personas maravillosas en mi vida hablan español, voy a incluir una traducción de esta carta abierta. Para ser sincero, sé muy poco español, así que le pido ayuda a ChatGPT. ¡Disculpen de antemano si la traducción no es perfecta!

Querido papá:

Sé que ya no escribo mucho en el blog, pero pensé que valía la pena tomarme el tiempo para escribirte esta carta. Te extraño más de lo que las palabras pueden expresar. Hoy se cumple mi séptimo cumpleaños sin ti. El primero fue apenas seis días después de tu partida y, en un abrir y cerrar de ojos, hoy se cumplen siete sin ver tu sonrisa. El último blog que publiqué aquí fue una carta que te escribí para marcar seis cumpleaños sin ti. Y ahora ya son siete.

Está bien. Papá, esta va a ser una carta emotiva, pero déjame hacer una pausa por un momento para un poco de humor ligero. Acabo de decir los números seis y siete uno tras otro. ¡6-7! Sé que si estuvieras aquí, encontrarías la manera de molestarme con esos números tanto (si no es que más) como lo hacen mis estudiantes. Esa es una de las cosas que más extraño de ti: tu sentido del humor.

Desde mi última carta, he sido bendecido con tantas aventuras, llenas de personas increíbles que me han bendecido más de lo que puedo medir. En la víspera de Año Nuevo de 2024, fui al Texas Bowl en Houston con algunos amigos para ver a los Baylor Bears jugar contra los LSU Tigers. Baylor perdió un partido emocionante, pero la experiencia me recordó el amor por el fútbol americano universitario que compartías conmigo. Extraño los sábados de fútbol universitario y las temporadas de tazones contigo.

El año 2025 se presentó con innumerables bendiciones. No estoy seguro de por dónde empezar, así que comenzaré hablando de mis estudiantes. Ojalá pudiera compartir contigo las incontables historias de estudiantes que me han regalado tanta alegría a lo largo de los años. Pasé los primeros meses de 2025 asistiendo a tantos partidos de baloncesto femenil como pude para animar a exalumnas que me llenan de alegría. Observé con emoción cómo las estudiantes rompían récords y lograban una increíble participación en los playoffs.

También he seguido con entusiasmo este año a estudiantes míos compitiendo en béisbol, softbol, voleibol y fútbol americano, y pronto podré animar a estudiantes increíbles en fútbol. Asimismo, he visto una alegría radiante en los rostros de los estudiantes cuando se presentan en musicales y conciertos de coro. Cuando veo a los estudiantes en los pasillos, siempre trato de animar sus proyectos. Una estudiante en particular solía visitar a su antigua maestra, y yo le decía: “¿Te estás portando bien?”. A lo que ella respondía con una gran sonrisa: “¡Nunca me meto en problemas, señor Stewart!”. También pude ver la alegría de los estudiantes cuando me uní a otros maestros como extra en el musical de otoño de la escuela.

Pero por más divertido que haya sido animar a los estudiantes fuera del aula, he experimentado aún más alegría dentro del salón. Mis estudiantes de primer año y de tercer año de inglés han compartido bromas conmigo, me han hecho reír y me han animado con su trabajo. Han escrito poemas sobre su fe, han compartido historias sobre los desafíos que han enfrentado en la vida y han expresado las esperanzas y sueños que desean alcanzar. En una clase incluso fuimos testigos de la historia cuando transmitimos en vivo el anuncio de un nuevo papa. ¡Eso fue genial!

No solo he tenido el privilegio de enseñar inglés a estudiantes de primer y tercer año, sino que también me he divertido muchísimo enseñando clases de ESL a estudiantes que trabajan para mejorar sus habilidades en un segundo idioma, o en algunos casos, en un tercero. Estos estudiantes han enfrentado tantos desafíos en sus jóvenes vidas, llegando de diversos rincones del mundo, y ahora están en mi aula, y yo soy su maestro.

Cada día llegan a clase con sonrisas y un enorme deseo de aprender. Sonríen y se ríen cuando hacemos nuestros ejercicios orales de calentamiento en inglés. Disfruto ver su progreso en el aprendizaje del idioma. E incluso hay momentos en los que comparten su humor conmigo a pesar de las barreras del idioma. A veces, la risa puede surgir simplemente de sonrisas y de señalar con el dedo.

Y si alguna vez llegara a dudar de mi llamado a enseñar a otros, mis estudiantes encuentran la manera de animarme y levantarme el ánimo. Mis estudiantes de inglés y ESL me han escrito cartas y tarjetas amables diciéndome que soy su maestro favorito o que les encanta estar en mi clase. Mi meta todos los días es recordarles a todos mis estudiantes que son bienvenidos, amados y que están seguros en mi aula. Les digo a diario: “Y recuerden, ¡ustedes son INCREÍBLES!”.

Me he sentido profundamente inspirado por mis estudiantes este último año. Fue una alegría ver a tantos de ellos cruzar el escenario, recibir sus diplomas y tomarme fotos con ellos en el campo. Y por si eso fuera poco, una excompañera de trabajo de otro distrito escolar me invitó a la fiesta de graduación de su hija. Yo había enseñado a esta maravillosa estudiante y a sus amigos durante su sexto grado como su maestro de Estudios Sociales el año antes de irme al seminario.

Disfruté ver sus rostros en esta fiesta de graduación y durante su caminata de despedida, algunos con miradas de sorpresa mientras preguntaban: “¿Señor Stewart? ¿Se acuerda de mí?”. Yo respondía: “Claro que sí”, antes de llamar a cada uno por su nombre. Hasta el día de hoy, ellos siguen animándome y recordándome por qué me enamoré de la enseñanza en primer lugar. ¡Incluso pude ver a una exalumna presentarse en un musical local!

Pero si puedo volver a mi puesto actual, uno de los mayores honores vino de una estudiante de ESL que me invitó a su iglesia bilingüe en mayo. Por supuesto, no dudé en responder con un rotundo sí. Esta joven me ha animado más de lo que las palabras pueden expresar. En clase, constantemente me recordaba que perseverara en mi fe. Su historia es una de tantas de resiliencia frente a desafíos abrumadores. He asistido a su iglesia tantas veces que ahora me consideran parte de su familia de fe. Y qué alegría fue predicar en uno de sus servicios dominicales justo antes de Acción de Gracias.

Y hablando de iglesias, todavía predico ocasionalmente en una pequeña iglesia presbiteriana mientras visito a mi familia bautista en Waco. También comencé a congregarme regularmente con una congregación metodista en enero. Estos increíbles creyentes de la tradición wesleyana han orado por mí y por mis estudiantes, y me han dado muchísimos materiales para mi aula. Junto con la iglesia pentecostal de mi estudiante, sigo disfrutando de la compañía de hermanos y hermanas bautistas, metodistas y presbiterianos. ¡Y qué muestra tan maravillosa de cómo será el cielo, con personas de todos los orígenes adorando a Cristo Jesús!

Y si eso aún no fuera suficiente para llenarme de alegría, también visité ocasionalmente mi seminario para el servicio de Semana Santa de la Asociación de Seminaristas Negros de Truett, la Conferencia de Predicación Afroamericana y para ver a un amigo ser instalado como nuevo pastor de su iglesia en Waco. Además, uno de mis amigos del seminario me invitó a un partido de fútbol americano de Baylor hace unos meses, así que ¡Sic ’Em Bears!

Papá, hay mucho más que quiero contarte. Hice mi primer viaje por carretera en solitario, cruzando estados. Los viajes por carretera son diferentes sin tu compañía. Antes de visitar a un amigo cercano en Kentucky, viajé a Indiana para ver a tu sobrina, mi increíble prima Taya, casarse. Estaba hermosa con su vestido, y sé que estabas muy orgulloso de tus sobrinas y sobrinos. Sé que el tío Michael y la tía Karen te extrañan muchísimo. ¡Fue una alegría visitarlos en una ocasión tan feliz! También me gustaría poder contarles sobre mis aventuras con Paige, Shayla, Mikayla, Chris e Isaac. ¡Ellos siguen animándome y compartiendo conmigo una inmensa alegría!

Papá, deseo que estuvieras aquí para poder contarte todo esto en persona. Te extraño más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. Eras mi mejor amigo, y la vida es más difícil sin ti aquí. Y aun así, llevo conmigo esta fe en Cristo que tú compartiste conmigo. Me acuerdo del himno de Bill y Gloria Gaither, uno que me cantabas a menudo cuando era pequeño:

“Porque Él vive, triunfaré mañana
Porque Él vive, ya no hay temor
Porque yo sé que el futuro es suyo
La vida vale más y más sólo por Él”

Te amo, papá, con todo mi corazón, más allá de toda descripción. Hasta que nos volvamos a encontrar, ¡hasta luego, Superman!

Con cariño,
Joshua

“Because He Lives” sung by Bill Gaither and Gary McSpadden

“Porque Él Vive” sung by Evangelina Crubinica

Another Birthday Without My Dad (An Open Letter to My Superman)

by

Dear Dad,

I don’t blog as much as I used to. I think I wrote you a letter last year. Here I am again, writing once more. I love you so much. I miss you more than words can describe. You were (and continue to be) my best friend. I would give anything to hear another one of your stories or one of your cringiest jokes or one of your pranks. Man, you were the best at pranking me. I did get you back a few times, but you were a pro at it. It is difficult for me to think that this is my 6th birthday since you left for your heavenly home.

Your steadfast faith in Christ Jesus and your compassionate care for others continues to encourage me to this day. You always taught me to use my faith for good in this world. You instilled in me that everyone is made in God’s image. You reminded me constantly to always defend anyone I see being mistreated. You were what one of my favorite professors, Dr. Mike Stroope, called a “pilgrim witness.” You showed people the gospel of Christ through your words and your actions. As imperfect as I may be, I try my best to live out the faith you instilled in me.

I wish you could have opened presents with the family last week. I wish you could have decorated cookies and watched movies with us. I wish I could tell you all the wonderful things that happened this past year. Whenever we would talk, you always listened to every word I had to say. So, let me tell you about this year.

After graduating from seminary in May of 2023, I worked in retail for a short period of time before substitute teaching again. In January of this year, I returned to the classroom as a public-school teacher. Every day, I try to care for my students as much as you cared for yours when you were a teacher. I miss your stories of your students. I felt like I knew so many kids I never met because you told me so much about them.

I wish I could introduce you to all the students who bless me with their presence in my classroom by telling you stories about them. In the Spring semester of this year, I taught freshmen and junior level English. We read poetry by Maya Angelou and Seamus Heaney. We read short stories. They wrote essays and stories themselves that made me smile. In my junior classes, we read Fahrenheit 451. Many of my students did not enjoy it as much as I did. I wasn’t sure if any of them did. Last month, however, one of my favorite students told me that she missed my classroom. That was her favorite book! Also, I did pull a few practical jokes on them. You would have been proud!

This school year, I am once again teaching freshmen English. They wrote short stories and had a dramatic reading of Romeo and Juliet. When they return from the holidays, we will do poetry! This year, I am also teaching ESL classes to students who have immigrated from so many different countries. They are some of the sweetest kids you could ever meet. They smile, tell jokes, and they love sharing about their cultures, of Ramadan and Day of the Dead. When I learn phrases to say in their languages, they smile. Hopefully I’m saying everything correctly, but they know I’m trying!

I care so deeply for all my students just as you cared for yours. Some of my current and former students play football, basketball, and volleyball. I try to attend as many games as I can to cheer them on. One of my former students is the star player on our girls’ basketball team. Another student was so thrilled I attended his football game. Another invited me personally to her volleyball game as her favorite teacher for a teacher appreciation event. I get to see the joy in other students in my weekly after-school, student-led Bible study. So many students have ministered to me and made me realize I am where God has called me to be.

But that’s not all that happened this year. I continued to preach some here and there, at Oak Grove, Seventh & James, and a few other places too! In May, I preached at Seventh & James about seeing the image of Christ in our neighbors. One of my favorite professors, Dr. Stephanie Boddie, came to hear me preach! She is amazing. You would have loved meeting her! And of course, you would have loved Seventh & James Baptist. I also preached at Oak Grove Cumberland Presbyterian about caring for our neighbors. I shared with them all the amazing things I did this summer.

Which leads me to this past summer. Through a dear friend from UMHB and Truett, I was connected with Be The Neighbor, a service organization that helps church groups learn how to be good neighbors in their communities through acts of love, service, and justice. I spent a week training for the summer at TCU. I know, I know, we’re Baylor fans. But it’s okay. They accepted me into the group anyways. One of them even told me that I was the only Baylor Bear they would ever make an honorary Horned Frog. Now, I find myself rooting for their team, unless they are playing Baylor of course! They are amazing, and TCU is a wonderful campus of wonderful people!

During the summer after the training, I spent time in Fort Worth and Dallas, working with some amazing churches, with a lot of Kansas Jayhawks fans, learning how we can be the hands and feet of Christ among those most vulnerable in society. We volunteered at urban gardens, food pantries, diaper banks, and a Boys and Girls Club. We explored how we can best advocate for asylum seekers, refugees, those facing homelessness, and those who don’t know where their next meal will come from.

Throughout that summer, and still now as I am in the classroom, I have learned how we as ambassadors for the gospel can better follow the Apostle Paul’s command to imitate Christ Jesus (1 Corinthians 11:1). We imitate Christ Jesus when we advocate for our neighbors. And as Dr. David Garland taught me in seminary, there are no non-neighbors! Whether in the classroom, behind the pulpit, or volunteering in the DFW-area, I have thought of how we can—as my new friend, Rev. Allison Lanza, puts it— “pursue a world God dreams of.”

Gosh, there’s so much more I want to share with you. I want to tell you about my friends, Tyler and Alexis, Trevor and Alia, and their beautiful weddings. I want to tell you all about Truett’s African American Preaching Conference, where I finally met the one and only Rev. Cokiesha Bailey Robinson. I want to tell you about Fellowship Southwest’s Compassion & Justice Conference, where I heard from my friend, Mariah Humphries, share about her passion for Indigenous justice. I want to tell you about my new friends at Royal Lane Baptist, of Victoria, Patsy, Cookie, and others. I want to tell you how so many ministers of the gospel this year, including some of my closest friends at Truett (Jordann, Jessalyn, Zach, Dmitri, Madison, Scott, Bryce, Emily, Ryan, Dylan, Matt, Kyle, and Hannah, just to name a few), continue to teach me how to be the neighbor. I want to tell you more about my amazing students and the joy the bring me each day. I want to tell you how my family uplifts me in every phone call, text, and visit. I want to remind you of how awesome your parents, my grandparents, are!

I wish I could tell you all this in person. I wish I could just see your smile again, even if for just a few seconds. But I know I will see you again. The faith you shared with me assures me of this. I look forward to seeing you someday in the presence of Christ Jesus. What a day that will be! Until then, I will press on and continue to run the race set before me. Until we meet again, see you later, Superman. I am proud to forever be your son.

With love,

Joshua

Four years without you: An open letter to Dad…

by

Dear Dad,

It’s been well over a year since I posted to this site, and of course, my last blog was about you. Today is a difficult day. Four years ago today, I held your hand one last time and sang songs to you, songs we used to listen to together.

My last post here, from October 11, 2022, what would have been your 56th birthday, was about prayer. Oh, how I wish we could pray together in this moment. I miss hearing you pray. I miss holding your hand as we prayed each night. I miss hearing your voice wake me up when I forgot so that we could pray together.

I miss a lot of things. I miss your smile. I miss your laughter. I miss your practical jokes, so many practical jokes at my expense. I’m laughing just thinking about them while also in tears. I miss your joy. You had such joy that you loved to share with those around you. Whenever I needed someone to talk to, you were always there to offer advice or to just listen. Even in the quiet stillness, your presence encouraged me more than words could express.

I wish I were not writing this open letter. I wish I had no reason to write this. I wish you were here. I would give anything to spend just one more day with you. I could tell all the things that have happened in the last four years.

I made so many friends at Truett Seminary. I wish I could introduce each one to you. I would tell you what fine ministers I know they are becoming. I would tell you how much each of them encourage me. I wish you could hear my friends Jordann, Jessalyn, Arnelle, Ralph, Madison, and Dmitri preach. I know you’d be the first one to encourage them to keep preaching the gospel. I wish you could share jokes with Kyle and me. You always had the best jokes.

I wish you were here to talk football with my friends Dylan and Matt. I know you would have many thoughts to share. I wish you were here to see my friends Torrence and Leah joyfully lead others in worship. You always loved singing hymns with me. I wish you could see Scott’s artwork knowing how much you loved seeing Granny’s art each day.

I wish you could meet Zach, my former roommate. I wish you could hear this gifted orator explain the gospel with such clarity and passion. I wish you could meet such a dear friend who means the world to me. I wish you could meet all these friends and more.

I also wish you could have visited Seventh & James Baptist Church, a church filled with amazing people I love dearly. I wish you could meet Matt and Erin. I know you would have expressed gratitude to them for mentoring your boy in ministry. I wish you could share puns with Dann and me. I wish you could see the ties Don has given me. I wish you could have gone to the Baylor Women’s game with Stan, Carolyn, and me.

I wish you could meet Dan and Sharon, a kind couple who have invited me into their home, cared for me when I had surgery, fed me more times than I can count, and loved me as if they were another set of grandparents to me. I wish you could meet Naymond and Carolyn, John and Dawn, Katie, Bill, Leslie, Carmen, Daryle and Robbie, Kent and Emily, and so many others who mean the absolute world to me.

I wish you could join us for hymn sings, potlucks, and Wednesday night gatherings. I wish you could hear our choir use their amazing voices to praise the name of God in unison. I wish you could meet our church’s youth, guided by our youth amazing minister, Scott, my dear friend whose art would make you go, “WOW!” I wish you could see the passion that these young teens have in caring for the world around them. I wish you could see how much they desire to share Christ’s radically inclusive love with others. I know they would inspire you as they have inspired me.

I wish I could tell you all I have learned, how I have grown in my faith and knowledge of Scripture. I wish you could meet Dr. Howard, Dr. Arterbury, Dr. Stroope, Dr. Tucker, Dr. York, Dr. Homeyer, Dr. Poe Hays, Dr. Boddie, Dr. Alcántara, and so many others who have encouraged me to be a better ambassador for Christ. I wish you could meet Nancy, Nancy, Jenn, Melissa, Emma, Jo Ann, and so many other staff members at Truett who made me smile every day. I wish you could have met Ruby and Bridgette who constantly encouraged my preaching. I wish you had been able to cheer me on as I earned my Master of Divinity.

I wish you could celebrate with me in a few days when I turn 30! I wish you could see the minister I am becoming. I wish you could hear me preach at small churches around central Texas. I wish you could meet the wonderful people I’ve met along the way, especially my friends at Oak Grove Cumberland Presbyterian Church who have shown me so much kindness as they continually affirm my calling to preach. I wish you could meet Don and Sherry and thank them for the ways they have been kind to your son.

There is so much I wish I could have shared with you these past four years. And yet, because of you, because of the faith you passed on to me, I have hope. I have hope that we will see each other again. It is a hope that carries me through difficult days like today. I have hope because you always reminded me that Christ Jesus gives us this hope.

I look forward to the day we will see each other again. What a day that will be! As the writer of Revelation reminds me, on that day, “God will wipe away every tear” (Rev. 7:17 NKJV). Until we meet again, see you later, Superman. I love you, with all my heart, beyond description.

And just as I did at your funeral, I’ll end by saying these words since the last movie we watched was Avengers: Endgame. Dad, I love you 3000!

Your son,

Joshua

What a Day That Will Be by Jim Hill

I Found the Answer by Mahalia Jackson

Sweet Hour of Prayer

by

Today is such a challenging day. Today would have been Dad’s 56th birthday, and it is his third in the eternal presence of Christ Jesus. I rejoice in the fact that he is no longer suffering. He is sitting at the feet of Jesus, proclaiming the name above all names. And what sights he must be seeing!

And still, there is the pain of not seeing his smile, not hearing a joke or a pun, not getting to call him whenever I want to talk. While it’s been nearly three years since his passing, my heart still hurts. There are times when something will trigger a fond memory of Dad. Each time, there is a mixture of sadness and immeasurable joy.

I recently found my bible I used as a preteen. As I flipped through the pages, with passages highlighted and marked with which pastor preached which passage on which date in the early 2000s, I remembered growing up in church with Dad. The fun activities as he taught the children’s class on Wednesday nights. The awesome games he came up with leading the recreation for VBS. The day he witnessed my baptism. All the stories of the bible he shared with me from a young age. My heart filled with joy.

As I placed my preteen bible next to a stack of hymnals, I remembered the hymns and gospel music Dad shared with me. Did you know that “they tell me of an unclouded day”? I am thankful Dad encouraged me to trust in the “Rock of Ages, cleft for me.” Together, we were “leaning on the everlasting arms.” We were “standing on the promises of God.” What “precious memories” that “flood my soul!” I am thankful for these memories.

It’s also football season! Watching the Baylor Bears at McLane Stadium reminded me of the time we got to see them host Texas in 2017. That was before I began my seminary journey at Baylor, so we were both for Texas that day. Sorry, Waco friends. Then, when I began my time at Baylor’s Truett Seminary, Dad wanted us to have a rivalry together.

We got tickets to the Texas at Baylor game and were going to cheer for opposite teams, but we never got to go to that game. But I also remember Dad’s kindness. After he began hospice care, he told me of a Texas friend of ours who should get the tickets. She and her daughter joyfully raised up their Horns in front of McLane Stadium for Dad. It brought Dad joy to know they had fun at the game. If he wasn’t able to make more memories with his son at McLane Stadium, he was thrilled that our friend was able to make memories with her daughter watching our two favorite teams.

Fast forward to recent weeks, there was one game that came on for which Dad and I were always on the same side. The Red River Showdown between the Texas Longhorns and the Oklahoma Sooners. In an incredible performance by the Horns, Texas shutout Oklahoma this year, 49-0. Wow! Dad would have been grinning and shouting the entire game!

I am thankful for a quarter century of memories made with Dad. The odd thing about grief is that I would never want it to fully go away. Because I enjoy these memories. These memories give me joy. They remind me of a loving Dad who cared for me more than I could ever imagine. As another one of his birthdays comes to a close, I am also thankful for another thing that was constant in our lives. Prayer.

A few weeks ago, I volunteered with our church’s youth group as I normally do on Sundays and Wednesdays. I have a special place in my heart for these wonderful teenagers who love the Lord and are passionate about their care for others. I am also thankful for my friend, Scott, who leads them as the minister of youth.

On a Sunday night a few weeks ago, Scott had prayer stations set up. For a while he stressed to the youth about the importance of prayer, and now we spent an hour of prayer. There was a station with art books where students could think and pray about what God was showing them through art. There was a station with current events so students could pray for people in our world. I was personally drawn to Lectio Divina, the practice of praying over Scripture.

I remembered finding a devotional Dad wrote in the 1990s, when I was just a few years old. He shared it with his grandmother who inspired him to lead a devotional on Psalm 107. And so, there I sat, praying over the words of the Psalmist, “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so.” As tears streamed down my face, I remembered Dad praying with me often.

When I was a young child, Dad taught me how to pray. We would write down what we wanted to pray for. Ourselves. Our loved ones. Our world around us. And then we would pray. Growing up, we would end each night in prayer. If I fell asleep having forgotten to pray with Dad, he would wake me up so we could pray together. Then I would go back to sleep.

As I sat at that prayer station a few weeks ago, with these memories bringing a smile to my face, I listened to the instrumental music Scott had playing throughout that hour of prayer. I’m still “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.” I am whispering the words to “It is Well.” I am asking the Spirit to “lead me where my trust is without borders.” And I am praying, with the Psalmist, “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so.”

That same weekend, Dr. York had us think about the value of prayer before we engaged in a class discussion the following Monday. I reflected on how prayer brings me closer to God, a God who wants me to share my wants, requests, and desires. Prayer reminds me to rejoice in a God who loves me beyond all measure, a God on whom I fully depend. God tells us in 1 Chronicles 16:12, “When you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you” (NRSV). Prayer allows me to have a relationship with a God who wants to spend time with me. Praise God!

In my Hebrew class, Dr. Poe Hays has us read the same Hebrew prayer often. I am still struggling with the consonant and vowel sounds, and so this prayer helps. But more importantly, it reminds me to thank God, for God gives me knowledge.

A few weeks ago, Truett hosted the African American Preaching Conference. It was a wonderful few days in which powerful proclaimers preached God’s Word and encouraged us to trust in God. It ended on a Thursday with two preachers. Dr. Jaqueline Thompson encouraged us to place ourselves firmly on Christ Jesus as our cornerstone. Before her sermon, Dr. Clayborn Lea reminded preachers that we need prayer. Amen. We need prayer. I believe in the power of prayer. I am thankful for Dad in instilling in me the value of prayer.

Going back to my memories of learning hymns with Dad, I have meditated on the words to the hymn “Sweet Hour of Prayer.” What sweet memories were shared with Dad in prayer! What a sweet hour of spending time in prayer with amazing youth! What sweet moments in class and at a conference where the power of prayer was discussed!

I am thankful to Dad for praying with me often. I am thankful to God for a dad who valued prayer. These past couple of weeks, I have resonated with the following lines of this hymn by W. W. Walford:

“In seasons of distress and grief, my soul has often found relief, and oft escaped the tempter’s snare, by thy return, sweet hour of prayer.”

Oh sweet, sweet hour of prayer. This is a difficult season for sure, especially this day. But thanks to Dad, who instilled in me the value of prayer, my soul can find relief and rest. My soul can escape the tempter’s snare. When I struggle and don’t know which way to turn, may I remember Dad’s example. May I return to the sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet Hour of Prayer by Mahalia Jackson

Sweet Hour of Prayer by Alan Jackson

What a Glorious Day That Will Be!

by

Today is an unbelievably challenging day. Today would have been Dad’s 55th Birthday, and it is now his second in heaven. I believe with my entire being that on December 24, 2019, Dad was resurrected into new life and is celebrating eternity with Christ Jesus.

For this, I am thankful. I am thankful that he is no longer suffering. Instead, he is rejoicing. He is proclaiming the name of Jesus. And he is seeing sights that I can only imagine in my finite earthly mind. I look forward to the day when I see my Dad again, and ultimately, when I see the face of Jesus. As I sang in the homily that I delivered at his funeral more than a year and a half ago, in the words of Jim Hill,

What a day that will be

When my Jesus I shall see

And I look upon his face

The one who saved me by his grace

When he takes me by the hand

And leads me through the Promised Land

What a day, glorious day that will be!

Until that day, I will rejoice that Dad is in his eternal home, and I will constantly reflect upon the fond memories of a quarter century of time spent with Dad.

And yet, grief is still ongoing. It is still so extremely difficult. Coupled with the anxiety and depression I have experienced throughout my life, there are days when I simply want to do absolutely nothing. There are days that overwhelm me to where I feel as though the entire world is crushing my bones.

If you are reading this, and you are struggling with grief, anxiety, depression, etc., please know that your mental health is important. I am learning and striving to take better care of my mental health. Please know how important this is. Care for your mental health. God certainly cares about it. You should too.

I find one thing that helps me is sharing my journey, one that is rooted in the foundation of Christ Jesus. Yes, I have bad days. And yet, I still have joy. Even in the midst of everything Dad went through in his battle with cancer, he would always remind me of the joy that he had. I am thankful that Dad gave me a love of Scripture, gospel music, serving others, and the joy that can be found in Jesus. It is this joy that gets me through days like today.

Several weeks ago, at Seventh and James Baptist, a church I have absolutely fallen in love with the past few years, Dr. Angela Gorrell, a professor at Truett Seminary, shared with us about her new book, The Gravity of Joy. That night she shared parts of her personal story in which she found joy while researching joy. I highly recommend the book, even though I haven’t even started it yet, and I promise you that it is on my to-do list. Her story was an encouragement to me that even in the darkest moments in our lives, we can find joy.

So, why do I have joy?

For me, the answer is simple (at least it seems that way in my mind). Jesus Christ gives me this joy. I have joy because of a savior who was crucified so that I might have eternal life. I have joy, because while life right now might be challenging, I know that my savior defeated death, and I know that I will see Dad again, and most importantly, I will one day see Jesus Christ face-to-face.

I have joy because my earthly Dad showed me what it means to have joy even when times were tough, especially when times were tough. I have joy because of the memories of Dad that God allows me to reflect upon. Dad would often go to great lengths to encourage someone and make their day better (as he did for me countless times). Whether it was his coworkers and students during his years in Special Education, friends of his at various stages of his life, or close family members, I have lost track of all the stories of the goofy things he would do to bring a smile to someone’s face.

I have joy because of the faith I have in Christ Jesus, a faith Dad imparted on me for nearly 26 years, and even after his passing, I am still encouraged by his faith. I also have joy because my grandparents continue to encourage and uplift me. Whenever I need someone to talk to, the first person I call is my Nana, and she will of course let me know if I go a day without giving her a call. The presence of family members across Texas and in Indiana also gives me joy.

I have joy because I am surrounded by so many wonderful people in Waco and beyond. My Seventh and James family, especially, Erin, Matt, and Scott, encourage me more than they’ll ever know. My Truett family consists of so many professors, staff members, and fellow students (including my awesome roommate, Zach) who bring a smile to my face constantly, especially when I can share puns with Dr. Grear Howard. That man is a legend and a phenomenal witness of the gospel. I have also recently become a part of a group of friends in which we study God’s Word each week and occasionally spend time outside of Bible study by playing games and watching football. There are so many more reasons, in addition to these, as to why I have joy.

There are two other moments, specifically at Truett, that have recently reminded me of this joy I have. Two weeks ago, Truett hosted the African American Preaching Conference. It was a wonderful few days of amazingly gifted preachers who proclaimed God’s Word. One of the highlights for me was a sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Ralph Douglas West.

In his sermon, he emphasized 1 Corinthians 2:1-2. Here it is in the NRSV:

“When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”

He reminded us that it’s easy to preach Jesus Christ. Doing so is quite popular. What is more challenging, but absolutely required of us, is that we preach not only Jesus Christ, but Jesus Christ, and him crucified.

It is because of a crucified and risen savior that I have joy in the midst of trials and challenges in my life. It is because of a crucified and risen savior that I can make it through days like today. It is because of a crucified and risen savior that I want my life to be one that lifts others up and advocates for others just as Dad did in his life.

The last moment I will share with you was last Tuesday in chapel. One of the songs in which my friend and fellow seminarian, Leah, led us in was “Give Me Jesus.”

I was emotional then, and as I have downloaded the song on iTunes and have listened to it repeatedly this past week, I’m still emotional. Here are some of the words:

In the morning, when I rise

In the morning, when I rise

In the morning, when I rise

Give me Jesus.

Give me Jesus,

Give me Jesus.

You can have all this world,

Just give me Jesus.

When I am alone,

When I am alone,

When I am alone,

Give me Jesus.

Give me Jesus.

Give me Jesus,

Give me Jesus.

You can have all this world,

Just give me Jesus.

These past few years (especially early October and late December of each year) has been difficult. But, in those moments, Jesus Christ gives me hope. So, when I am afraid, anxious, depressed, grieving, just give me Jesus. Because he is why I have joy. Dad, thank you for sharing this joy with me throughout your life, and for continuing to inspire me through the work of the Holy Spirit. Because of a crucified and risen Savior, I know I will see you again. And what a day that will be!

Give Me Jesus by Danny Gokey

What A Day That Will Be by Jim Hill

Camp, Jeremy (note: not original author of hymn, but the lyrics I found are attributed to him). “Give Me Jesus.” AZLyrics. Web. 11 Oct. 2021.

Hill, Jim. “What A Day That Will Be.” Google Play Lyrics. Web. 11 Oct. 2021.

Depression, hope, and the beauty of the resurrection

by

Today, I share this blog with you not to garner sympathy. I share this so that you might be encouraged. I share this so that you might be empowered. I share this so that you know about this Jesus I have hope in. I share this so that you may know his love. In the midst of trials, my Savior reigns. He is with me. In his name, I will praise. In his name, I will place my hope. In his name, I will love others as he continually loves me.

For years, I have battled depression. I have struggled with feelings of constant anxiety and loneliness. If you have ever known me for a short time, perhaps this might surprise you. Even though I have struggled with depression, I still have joy, yes joy. Abundant joy. Just in case you ever had any doubt, you can struggle with depression and still have joy, and still place trust in an amazing God who loves us beyond all comprehension.

These past few years have been rough. I witnessed my Dad, the strongest man I have ever known, my best friend, decline in health and pass away after a more than 6-year battle with cancer. His death was on December 24, 2019. Since then, I have had moments when my depression worsened, and I felt more anxious and lonelier. Like there was a gaping hole in my heart. I can’t explain it, but even with the support of an amazing and loving family, and communities of fellow believers in my corner, it’s still possible to feel lonely. And yet, I still have joy. Why is that? Why do I have so much joy?

I have joy because Dad showed me what it means to be joyful, especially when times were tough. Even when he started hospice, we would video chat each night. There were still laughs, jokes, and smiles. There was also his positive spirit. He promised me that in some way or another, he would be at my wedding. And when the time comes, and I meet the love of my life, and propose to her, and say, “I do,” Dad will be there with that big smile of his.

Just weeks before passing into the arms of Jesus, not long before he could no longer speak, he turned to me, and asked, “Why is God so good to me?” That is a question I have even now. Why is God so good to me? As Dad has so wonderfully taught me, I know that God is still good. As Dad led us a month prior to his passing, with his and our hands raised, we sang, “Because He Lives” just as he did when I was a little boy. So, why is God so good to me?

Even as the waves crash around us, Christ Jesus calls us to leap from the boat we are in and walk towards him. To miraculously walk on water as we look upon his face and trust in his love.

And sometimes we sink. Sometimes, the waves sweep over us. And still, he is there ready to pick us back up. So, why do I feel anxious at times? Why do I at times feel depressed? Sad? Tired? Lonely? I don’t have an answer to this. And yet, somehow, I still trust that God is sovereign. God watches over me just as he watches over every little sparrow. Sparrows are beautiful. And yet, God thinks I’m even more beautiful. Wow!

If you are experiencing any similar pain, let me tell you this. I hope this doesn’t sound cliché. It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to acknowledge what you are going through. Don’t be ashamed of it. God is not and never will be ashamed of you. Even when you fall short, even when you make mistakes, even when your hurt leads you to sin, there God is. God is there, waiting for you to turn and run to God. Just as the father ran towards the prodigal son, so does God run after you. God loves you. God loves me. God loves us all.

Before Spring Break of 2020, before the pandemic upended our daily routines, I walked to Baylor’s Counseling Center, a perk of being a student at Baylor. I was terrified, but I reached out. I asked for help. I know I’ve heard this somewhere. I can’t remember where, but it’s okay to have Jesus and a therapist (or counselor) too. And thanks to technology, even in the midst of COVID-19 and staying at home last year, counseling could be done online. So yes, I saw a counselor. And that’s okay.

So, let me remind you that it is okay to seek help. If you are hurting, please do. It is okay to acknowledge what you are feeling, what you are going through. Know that God loves you. I love you. You are fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God. Even when I am in pain, God is still there. In God, I have joy. Sweet. Amazing. Joy.

I understand, if in the middle of uncertainty, you are feeling anxious. I’ve felt that. But please don’t lose hope. I know, as Bill and Gloria Gaither’s timeless and timely song reminds me, that “Because He Lives, I can face tomorrow!” In every circumstance, I know that “life is worth the living just Because He Lives.”

I know that I can face many tomorrows because he lives. And in the past year, I have had some very rough days. There have been days when it seems as though my depression got the better of me. I still remember sitting in a Zoom class not long ago and anxiety seemed to flood my entire body. You wouldn’t have been able to notice by looking at the little box of me on the screen, but I was having a difficult time that day.

This leads me to today. Easter. The day in which followers of Christ around the world celebrate the resurrection of a risen savior. These past few years have given me a greater appreciation for the resurrection. Not only was Christ resurrected, but in following Jesus, I am being resurrected, being renewed, every day. Recently, I experienced a silent spiritual retreat with other seminary colleagues. It was good for the soul. As I walked the trails through the trees behind DaySpring Baptist Church (the location of the retreat) in silence, I was amazed by God’s presence. As I sat looking at the creek bed below me, as the sun rose through the trees above me, I felt as though Jesus was sitting next to me, telling me to place my trust in him. I felt as though he wasn’t brushing off my pain, but was acknowledging it, reminding me that he knows that pain. As I sat there, I wrote the following poem to express my thoughts, a poem, I simply titled, “In the quiet stillness.”

In the quiet stillness

I find myself at peace.

It is here that my soul finds rest.

In this moment of solitude,

I feel your presence.

I feel your warmth.

As the sun breaks through the trees

And the birds sing songs to you,

I now seem to understand

What you meant when you said,

“Be still and know that I am God.”

Oh Lord, you are my Rock and Shield,

You lift me up when I am weak,

When it is difficult to stand,

When my heart grows weary,

When the weight of the world crushes my bones,

When depression and anxiety seek to defeat me,

When grief casts its dark shadow on me.

In the midst of chaos,

You whisper to me,

“Be still and know that I am God.”

So, let me be still.

Let me rest in your presence.

You are my fortress and strong tower.

Let my spirit soar with eagle’s wings.

Let me slow down and trust in you.

Let my soul run to you as I sit,

Quietly,

So quietly,

In stillness,

With your arms wrapped around me,

In the quiet stillness.

It was in that stillness that God embraced me, understood my pain, and acknowledged it. I knew that it was okay when I wasn’t feeling okay, because God is always there with me. Even when I feel like I am drifting away from God, even when I feel angry at God, God is there, waiting, just waiting for me to turn back to a God who loves me beyond all comprehension.

I see the beauty in the resurrection. I wish I could have been there when Mary Magdalene, who knew the blistering pain of grief, finally recognized Jesus after the resurrection. I see the beauty in the resurrection, because I know that upon his earthly death, Dad was resurrected into eternal life with Jesus. I see the beauty in the resurrection, because I know that in my relationship with a resurrected Savior, Jesus resurrects me. He renews me and guides me every step of the way.

Friends, life can be challenging. At times, it may seem as though the whole world is crashing around you and you feel helpless. Acknowledge the pain you feel. Don’t let anyone tell you that you cannot be faithful to God while struggling, while experiencing pain. If you need help, please reach out to someone. Take care of your mental and spiritual health. Know that you are loved. I love you. God loves you. I saw something on Facebook recently that encouraged me greatly, and so I will end with this encouragement.

Christ has risen. Because of this, I have joy. There will still be bad days. Depression may get the better of me some days, but I still have joy. Joy in a resurrected Savior who watches over me just as he watches over the sparrow. Praise God!

Happy Birthday in Heaven, Daddy.

by

Dear Superman,

Today would be your 54th birthday. It has been more than nine months since I said goodbye to you, my closest friend in life. I miss you more and more each day. For the first time since January, I listened to a recording of your voice. Why I have waited this long, I am not sure. At one point, you told me that there was no one you would rather spend time with than me. Oh, what I would give to spend just a few moments with you, to watch one more episode of the Office or a college football game with you, to hear you laugh and tell jokes, to see you smile at me and tell me that you love me with all your heart.

This journey of discovering how to live life without your physical presence has been far from easy. I know it’s not supposed to be easy when you love someone so much, but my goodness, it’s been rough. There have been so many days that have been quite emotionally painful. I miss being able to call you and tell you how my day is going. I am thankful beyond measure to be able to call my Nana and BigDaddy, but I wish I could call you too. Last night, as I cleaned the church while listening to my iPod, I broke down in tears as I listened to Richard Smallwood sing, “The Center of My Joy,” and I couldn’t help but sing at the top of my lungs and fall to my knees when listening to “I Can Only Imagine” by MercyMe. I am eternally grateful to you for impressing upon me to have such a strong faith in our Heavenly Father who watches over us. He is the center of my joy and I can only imagine what it will be like when I can see you again, but more importantly, when I can see the face of Christ Jesus. I cannot wait for the day.

We made so many memories together, memories that I have thought about a lot lately. I remember fondly our road trips to the Grand Canyon in 2016 and to Virginia for the Division III Football National Championship in 2017, travelling through the Deep South while listening to the iPod that Mr. Barber kindly loaned us. My favorite was the album by Huey Lewis and the News. I wish I had a time machine so I could travel back in time and visit you, even if just for a moment. I wish we could drive through the mountains of North Carolina and Virginia again or take the Sandia Peak Tramway in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Or perhaps just simply watch a football game together as we cheer every touchdown and yell about every fumble or interception.

We loved binge-watching shows together such as Star Trek: Voyager, Speechless, and the Office. During quarantine, I introduced myself to Parks and Rec and the West Wing, two shows I know you would have liked too. So many things we used to do together just doesn’t seem the same without you. I miss you more than words can say.

These past 365 days have been challenging. Just a few days before your birthday last year, I had so much planned for an awesome weekend of just the two of us guys hanging out together. I was going to come home Thursday night, we would spend Friday, your birthday, at the doctor’s office (meh), but then treat ourselves to perhaps some Bush’s Chicken. Saturday, we were going to watch the Red River Showdown between the Texas Longhorns and the Oklahoma Sooners before watching the Baylor Bears take on the Texas Tech Red Raiders. Then, on Sunday, I was going to take you with me to Seventh and James so that you could visit the church I had fallen in love with in Waco and meet some amazing people I worshipped with each Sunday. We would top the day off with lunch at On the Border, our favorite place to eat in Waco. It was going to be a blast!

But as you know, it didn’t work out that way. Your birthday ended with us in a hospital room. We still watched some football together, cheering on the Longhorns even though they couldn’t pull it off (Shucks! And they didn’t this year either. Double shucks!) as you laid in your hospital bed. That Saturday, October 12, 2019 would become one of the most difficult days of my life as the doctor sat next to me and suggested that we consider end-of-life care. That’s not the weekend I had planned. I was shocked. I was heartbroken that the strongest, most fearless, hardest working, most Godly man I knew was nearing the end of his life. The following two and a half months was a roller coaster of emotions. Then, joined by our amazing friends, Karen and Adolph, our family told you farewell as you departed your earthly home for an eternal heavenly one on Christmas Eve.

In the days, weeks, and months after, so many friends and family have encouraged me and have taken care of me. Nana checks up on me every day and I have so many friends in Waco and elsewhere who bring me so much joy even in moments of deep pain and sadness. There is so much I wanted to experience with you. I wanted you to see me graduate from seminary, preach from a pulpit, fall in love and get married (you were supposed to officiate the ceremony), and spoil your future grandkids. I still take comfort in words you spoke to me nearly a year ago. You told me that in one form or another, you would be at my wedding. I know that in spirit, you will be there just as you are with me now as I type this blog post.

Grief is challenging, daunting, nerve-racking, and depressing. Quite frankly, it sucks. I don’t like it one bit. But I take joy in knowing that you are in Heaven with Christ Jesus, free from the pain and sickness of cancer. Death did not have the final say, eternal life did. You beat cancer. So, while I continue to grieve, I will also celebrate and wish you a wonderful birthday, your first in Heaven. Happy Birthday, Daddy. I love you, with all my heart, beyond description. Until we meet again, see you later, Superman!

Love, Joshua

Center of My Joy by Richard Smallwood

I Can Only Imagine by Mercy Me

If you walked out of the grave, I’m walking too!

by

Emptytomb1

It has now been 110 days since I said my earthly goodbyes to my Superman. With each passing day, I miss him more and more, and I am increasingly thankful for the impact he has had on my life, for reminding me, even up to his final weeks, that as Bill and Gloria Gaither’s song goes, “Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. Because He lives, all fear is gone. Because I know who holds my future. Life is worth the living just because HE LIVES!”

Today, I celebrate with so many Christians around the world in rejoicing that Christ lives. Resurrection Sunday provides us with the reminder that Christ lives, the healing power of restoration, the assurance that we can face uncertain days, and the promise of eternal life to all those who follow Jesus Christ. While I still grieve, and while the future seems so uncertain in the midst of a global pandemic, I know that because my Savior lives, I can face tomorrow.

This past year has been challenging to say the least. This time last year, Dad was undergoing treatment for the cancer that had spread to his brain. I was ending my time as a public-school teacher and getting ready to begin seminary. As excitement grew of my future plans, Dad’s cancer had been shrinking and he was slowly regaining his strength. We had even planned on going to the UT-Baylor game, with him in his UT orange and white and me in my Baylor green and gold, and of course with both of us wearing purple UMHB caps to honor our alma mater.

Then, in October, the day after his 53rd birthday, we received the news that he would have to begin home hospice care. Slowly his health declined, and surrounded by friends and family, he breathed his last earthly breath on Christmas Eve at 6:50PM. I had taken off from seminary in November, and my professors kindly allowed me to make up the work the following semester. I finished the work in January while starting a new slate of classes. Only a month and half later, would the pandemic hit us and cause us to feel as if our world was crumbling around us. As an extrovert who has battled depression for much of my life, I will say that I’m not liking this shelter-in-place business. While we must stay home to keep everyone safe and healthy and flatten the curve of this outbreak, this is still all too difficult.

So, you might ask me, in the midst of all of this, why are you hopeful? Why are you at peace? Why do you have joy? I’ll tell you why with two simple words: Jesus lives! The power of this day is that I am reminded of Christ’s defeat over death. This was not a metaphorical death. Let me say this unequivocally, without hesitation, Jesus died. Jesus was buried. Jesus rose again. I have heard the argument time and again that Jesus’ body didn’t really die or that his body didn’t really rise from the grave. Some say that it is just a symbol of love and hope.

My reaction to that argument is “Where is the hope? Where is the love?” If Jesus didn’t physically die, then what is the point? Where is his love? Where is the restoration? If Jesus didn’t physically rise from the grave, then what hope could I possibly have in a powerless God that couldn’t overcome death? How could I hope in healing, in restoration, in being able to face these uncertain days, if God did not physically defeat death?

The truth is this: Jesus was dead, but in body and spirit, left that tomb, and this is the reason why we can even celebrate this day or any other day of the year. Death could not and did not win. Death was defeated. And just as Jesus defeated death some 2000 years ago to give me this hope, I have hope that in Christ Jesus, Dad also defeated death. Because of the resurrection, I know Dad has been resurrected into new eternal life in the presence of God almighty. The moment he breathed his last breath at 6:50 PM on December 24, 2019 was the moment that he got to see Jesus. That was the moment when Dad was able to embrace the Lord of Lords and touch His nail-scarred hands.

And this is why I have hope. Dad taught me to have this hope. Jesus’ bodily resurrection gives me this hope. This past year, one of the songs I have been listening to repeatedly has been “Ain’t No Grave” by Bethel Music featuring Molly Skaggs. Towards the end of the song, Molly Skaggs, repeats about a dozen times, “If you walked out of the grave, I’m walking too.”

If you walked out of the grave, I’m walking too. It is because of Christ’s defeat over death, that we can face whatever it is we are going through. We can face these trying, scary, daunting, uncertain days because Christ lives. This is why I have hope. While I know the struggle of facing these challenges is great, while the pain of loss is great, while depression is great, while the added anxiety of a global pandemic is great, the God I serve is so so much greater! If He can defeat death, if His body can walk up out of that grave, then I know that He is powerful enough to see me through, to see us through the difficult days ahead.

God has promised us time and time again that He will be with us, that He will never leave nor forsake us (see Deuteronomy 31:6 and 8, Joshua 1:9). Isaiah 41:10 tells us, “Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand” (NRSV). When God promises something, He keeps those promises. And of course, my favorite passage of Scripture, from Romans 8, reminds us that “in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (NIV).

So, what shall I fear? Yes, these days have been difficult, and yes, more difficult days are yet to come. And yet, because of Christ’s victory over death, I have hope, and I have a reassurance that nothing can separate me from the love of Christ Jesus, a love so great that he died and rose for me so that I can have eternal life, and so that I can see Dad’s smile again someday.

So, if you walked out of the grave, I’m walking too. Praise be to God!

Gaither, William J. and Gloria Gaither, 1971. “Because He Lives.” Google Play Lyrics. Web. 12 Apr. 2020.

Bethel Music and Molly Skaggs. “Ain’t No Grave.” AZLyrics. Web. 12 Apr. 2020.

Because He Lives by Bill Gaither, Ben Speer, and Guy Penrod

Ain’t No Grave by Bethel Music and Molly Skaggs

We Shall See Jesus by the Cathedrals

Are There Bluebonnets in Heaven?

by

Bluebonnets

As I walked through the garden,

I felt the cool breeze sweep over me.

The many flowers were in full bloom;

The Indian blankets and white poppies dotted the hillside.

I strolled alongside a steady stream and listened.

I listened as the wood thrushes and mockingbirds

Performed their sweet melodious sonnets.

 

As I gazed across the bright blue sky,

And fixed my eyes on the distant trees,

I felt as if I were in a painting;

A magnificent work of art, inspired by God,

And placed on a canvas by a master painter.

I was in complete awe of the immense beauty.

Life sprang forth all around me.

 

As I continued my journey throughout this vast garden,

I heard someone singing a song with words I had heard before.

As I drew closer to the singer’s voice,

There sat my Granny, on a bench, singing “Precious Memories.”

A smile spread across my face,

As I remembered all those times spent with my Granny.

The crafts, the dominoes, and the stories filled these memories.

 

While she continued singing, another voice joined her.

She called for him and he came to sit right beside her with an arrowhead in his hands.

“Look what I found Granny Olene; it’s just for you.”

He turned and looked at me with a bright smile on his face.

It was my Dad, and he continued happily singing with my Granny.

The words to “Precious Memories” became even more significant to me.

Oh, how I will miss the laughs, football games, and late night movies with Dad.

 

Then I saw a gardener, hunched over,

planting bluebonnets;

All the while, singing along with Dad and Granny.

I knelt beside the gardener and asked him, in wonder,

“Are there bluebonnets in heaven?”

He turned to me, with soil on his fingertips and scars in his hands.

He smiled at me and asked, “Do you know the name of this garden?”

“I call it Paradise, and someday, the four of us will sing together.”

 

After the gardener spoke these words,

I awoke that morning,

Joyful at what I just dreamed,

Waiting for the day when I could sing with Dad, Granny, and the gardener.

Until then, I will keep these images and my Precious Memories in my heart,

As I tell the world of this gardener who assured me

That there are bluebonnets in heaven!

 

Originally written on June 21, 2017, the fourth stanza and mentions of Dad were added on February 17, 2020. Dad and Granny Olene, I love you both, with all my heart, beyond description!

Olene Shepherd Stewart: October 13, 1921 ~ June 13, 2017

Ronnie Dean Stewart: October 11, 1966 ~ December 24, 2019

DadandGranny

Dad and his Granny Olene

A life well-celebrated!

by

Dadhasmynose2

Dear Superman,

Well. It’s been 12 days since you breathed your last breath here on Earth. It doesn’t seem like that much time has passed. It feels like it was only a day or two ago. Each day, I miss you more and more. I’ve heard it gets easier over time. I’m waiting. It’s not getting easier yet. It’s starting to sink in, I think. I would give anything to hear one more joke or watch one more Good Mythical Morning YouTube clip with you. I am filled with joy in that you are living in Heaven for an eternity free of pain. At the same time, I find myself trying to balance that joy with the grief I have in not seeing your smile anymore.

Okay. Now I’m crying. I still have occasional anxiety attacks. I miss you so much. Does time really make this any easier? I have my doubts.

We celebrated your life the last two days. There were so many people at your visitation. We were sharing so many memories. Some of your high school friends were sharing with me about your goofy antics. After every story, I realize more and more that I am your son. Maybe I’ll carry on some of that goofiness in your honor. I also learned that you had a detective agency when you were little. That’s cool!

Some of my closest friends from high school and college came to pay their respects. The Earps and Daniells were there. So were the Montgomerys. Michael, Jamie, and Kenzie stopped by. Karen Standridge did too. Bryson, our sweet cousin, entertained as always. You had high school friends, college buddies, coworkers from Channel 25, Florence and Georgetown ISD, and plenty of others. The Segrests visited from Waco. I go to church with them now. They hugged Nana and told her they would help take care of me in Waco. You’d like them. There were so many hugs. Not sure who gave the best one. Perhaps our friend Serena from GISD. She gives good hugs.

Yesterday was the graveside service. There were so many people there. Dad, you were loved by so many. From each chapter of your life and mine, people came to celebrate just how awesome you were and how much you meant to us. I kinda goofed on the registry book. I forgot to make it accessible for everyone to sign. Nana counted 50 something who did sign. I would say there were close to 30-40 additional people who were there. They wore their superhero and college shirts.

Many of your classmates from high school and college were there. Some of your Channel 25 buddies were too. Quite a few of your former coworkers from Florence and Georgetown were there. Mrs. Petty gave me a sweet hug. Erin Conaway, the pastor of Seventh & James, was there. So were some of my Truett friends. Sarah Kuczek and I talked about football. Kirsten Parker and her mom sent me a photo of themselves afterward. They were wearing a Longhorn and a Superman shirt just for you. So many people that I can’t name them all. They were there to celebrate YOU!

The service was amazing. And with perfect weather! Mark Fitzwater filmed it for our family. Your friend Scott Zajicek sang Amazing Grace just as you asked him to. Wes Willie shared some details of your life and sang 10,000 Reasons. Roy Smith prayed a sweet prayer as he often does. Sally Russell read Psalm 23. Greggory and Amberlee sang your favorite song, “When I Cry.” They could not have done so more beautifully. Michael Baker sang the song you sang to me when I was little. It’s our favorite. You know? Because He Lives. I love that song. Then he sang “Sanctuary,” and Shawn Shannon closed with a wonderful benediction.

You asked me months ago to preach at the service. Well. I did my best. I preached. I also sang a little. Not exactly my comfort zone, but I wanted to sing for you. Remember when we would sing at Lawler Baptist for 3rd Sunday Singings each month. I loved singing specials with you. Oh, what I would give for just one more 3rd Sunday Singing with you. The last time we sang in front of people together was when I was in middle school I think. Also, I think that was the last time I sang in front of a crowd until yesterday. So many wonderful memories. I miss you so much. I also dropped a Marvel reference just for you, and I’ll say it again. Dad, I love you 3000!

During the reception, there were so many jokes and so much laughter. I know that’s what you would want and that is to enjoy each other’s company as we remembered all of the fun times we had with you. There was plenty of food thanks to your friends, Karen, Monica, and others from GHS, your high school friends, and cookies from Lawler and FBC Florence. Also, Bryson entertained there as well. Man, I love that little guy!

Some of your high school classmates asked me to take a photo with them. In honor of the goofball you were, they wanted me to lie across their laps. Apparently, there is a photo of you doing that when you were in high school. Of course, there is! I will miss your goofiness. You were always the life of any party or get-together.

FlorenceFriends

Dad, now is the difficult part. Now I must find a new normal. But I don’t want a new normal. A new normal, if there is such a thing, means that you’re not here physically. Not here to laugh, tell jokes, yell at the television set with me when our football teams aren’t doing well (or when the officials make a bad call). Not here to give an encouraging word. I want your advice. Dad, how am I supposed to do this? I miss you so much. I’m waiting for your prankster self to tell me that I’ve been epically punk’d, but I know better.

As I feel these feelings, as I experience this hurt, I know you’re in a better place. I am rejoicing in that fact. I look forward to the day when I will see you again. WHAT A DAY THAT WILL BE! Until then, see you later Superman. Again, I love you 3000!

(Yes, I just called you Superman and made a Marvel reference. Would you have it any other way?)

Love,

Joshua

Psalm 23 (NKJV)

A Psalm of David.

23 The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
2 He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.
3 He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever.