A Memoir

My earliest memories are with Grandpa. He taught me to whistle (that's one of my most vivid very-young-childhood memories pictured above). He taught me to ride a tricycle. He taught me to laugh - always, no matter what the difficulties, and especially when the going got really tough. He taught me to love God's word, to memorize it, study it, read it, apply it, and never stop soaking in its Truth.

He always had the best stories. Some of my best memories are of sitting around his kitchen table, listening as he recounted tales from his youth, fascinating snippets about what Mum was like when she was a little girl, or important lessons he'd learned along life's journey.

He taught us to love our Canadian and Mennonite heritage. He taught us to sing, nurtured our interest in music, and played his guitar along with us, first in-person and then, once we were on the mission field, over Skype. Whenever we were in British Columbia, he'd treat us to the best fish & chips on the planet, show us where to find the best blackberry bushes, and take us for long walks along the beautiful rocky beaches of the Sunshine Coast. He loved nature, and he passed that along to us, too.

He was gifted, highly skilled, a published writer, a family man; a man of principles and truth. He was a dedicated servant in the Kingdom, and touched the lives of unknown thousands.

The hardest sacrifice of missions life was moving 3,000 miles away from him.

Today he has gone home to be with the Lord. We are now dealing with the raw pain of losing a trusted family member, companion, confidant, friend, and mentor; yet we rejoice that he is in a far better place, and we will see him again someday.

All things are made beautiful in God's time.

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the Name of the Lord.

Job 1:21