On October 30, 2009 I posted photos of my dad on Facebook, and sent an email with photos included to several family members to commemorate what would have been his 100th birthday. Dad died in 1973, so he's been gone a long time. As I scanned my photos, memories flooded my mind.

I think he would have a tough time with the world we live in today. I can remember when, in the late 1960s, he'd get really upset when he'd see the kind of dancing kids were doing on American Bandstand. What would he think about the path in life I life I have chosen? He did hear me preach my first sermon, but, as I recall, that was the only one he heard. He would probably be amazed at how much money I make in a year, the size of our house, that we don't trade cars every year, and how many people there are in Nashville, Tennessee. I doubt that he would be interested in taking a trip to New York City with me. However, I do think he would be pretty impressed with the 42-inch flat screen HDTV hanging on the wall in our living room (if he knew he could watch Bonanza in color.) It would be nice to be able introduce him to my wife, to my children, to have a cup of coffee with him. Of course, he'd only drink Maxwell House instant coffee, and he would need lots of sugar and Pet Milk for his creamer.

The events of that day in 1973 are still pretty vivid in my mind. I remember where I was when I got word of his death. I remember how gently E. Winston Burton shared the news with me. I remember the drive from Jonesboro to Hope. I remember several of my friends coming to the service. I remember the line of people coming by to pay their respects. I remember how much food people brought to the house. I still have a note he wrote me just before he died.

The memories are fresh, even though he has been gone a long time. Thirty-six years. So much has happened since January 26, 1973. So much has changed with our family, in the world of technology, the world of medicine, the world of politics. Although he has been gone a long time the viewing of one grouping of photos on my computer screen reminds me that he still lives. He still speaks. And he's still here.

So it is with all of us. We spend our days living the life that God calls us to live, or the life we choose to live, then we are gone. Behind us we leave memories for those we've loved and touched and impacted to reflect upon on the anniversary of our birth.

What is true with my dad is also true for every character from the pages of Scripture. Just as the memories of my dad bless his children, the stories of God's faithful in Scripture bless all of us who have learned and share their stories. They lived. They've been gone a long time. Yet, they still live through their words, their actions, and their example. Jesus left this earth a long time ago. More than two thousand years. Yet, He still lives. He still speaks. He still teaches. He still encourages. He still inspires.

My Dad would have difficulty with the world in which we live. Jesus has no such trouble. What we may see as a difficult time, He sees as a time of opportunity. While we see so much darkness, He sees so many reasons to shine. What we perceive to be terrible times, He sees as the greatest of times. He sees this as our time to live free and be filled with hope. He sees this as our opportunity to share the joy we have found in knowing Him with those in the world who have not yet met Him. He has never really left us. He still longs to live in and through us. He still lives.

My dad has been gone a long time, but he still lives in the hearts and minds of those who knew and loved him. One day, I'll be gone. How will I be remembered? Will I live on? What will my children remember? What will I leave behind? What will my life teach?

May we all live out our days by allowing Christ to live in us so that those who live after us will be encouraged to live, to love, to give, and to share what God does in them and for them.

Tom