Thanks for the memories...

Bill Bullick was a great guy. He was a singer in the church choir. He was a bass with a deep voice. He loved to joke around, but his heart was bigger than his booming voice. Nobody who knew Bill Bullick ever had a hard word to say about him. He was the kind of guy we all want to be - friendly, warm, caring, dedicated, smart, strong, loving. He welcomed me to the choir even though I was just in high school at the time and he became my friend really fast.

When he passed away in the late 90's, I took his loss pretty hard. I had taken his life, his existence, for granted. I had not been back to Lakeside in a while at that point. I sat in the church for his funeral service and I looked around at his family and friends and heard the wonderful stories about him. I sang in the choir that day for the first time in years. It was a strong, and painful, reminder of all the wonderful things that Lakeside had meant to me.

Bob Lehman was a quiet guy. He was Janet Lehman's husband and Susan Lehman's father. He played handbells and liked baseball and helped out whenever he was asked. He was that guy that you see at the church all the time and never question the fact that they are always there. He and his wife took over from Lila when she retired as camp cooks on the various work camps for the church. He never raised his voice. He never complained. He loved to help - loved it!

Not long after Bill Bullick's passing, I was back at Lakeside for the funeral of Bob Lehman. As I sat in the pews listening to the various speakers, I realized something wonderful - Bob Lehman had lived a complete life. He'd married his wife and had his child. He'd supported them by working hard all his life and providing them with a home. And then, when he'd retired, he'd gone to work full time for God - spending hours every day at the church helping out, because he loved it!

At the time, I was working for a large corporation that didn't care about me one bit. To them, I was just a cog in the giant wheel of their operation - easily replaced. I needed the money, of course, and so I took this lack of relationship with a mercenary attitude - they didn't care about me, and I really didn't care about them. I got paid. I did my job. End of conversation. It was no way to live. It was not even close to a complete life.

Two funerals in what seemed like days brought me back into a church and a life I had known. As people welcomed me back, it felt as if I'd never left. The faces were different. The styles of music and worship were different. The pastors were different. But the life was the same. The Leader was the same. I left the second funeral knowing what I had been missing, knowing what I wanted to become.

Eventually I left the corporation I had been working for and found a nice small company where everyone knew everyone else - and everyone mattered. The change in work schedule allowed me to return to church for the first time in years. In 2000, I went back and joined the choir. I lasted about fifteen minutes (literally!) before I had also joined the handbell choir. By the fall of that year, I became a youth advisor to the associate pastor. And by the end of that first year back, I was approached to become an Elder and join the governing body of the church. The journey back had many bumpy roads, but it was a path I never once doubted taking.

I will continue to do the Lord's work, wherever that takes me, not because I am some sort of super Christian, or because I am trying to work my way into Heaven, but because it is who I want to be. It is the life I want to live. And, ultimately, when I pass away, I hope there will be people who are inspired in the way that I was inspired by dedicated people, who will take up the cross and continue the work of God.