Tribute

So, I’m headed to a funeral in a couple of hours for a man who touched more lives than I think we could accurately count. Tom is one of the first people I remember meeting at PBC when we first started visiting there my 7th grade year. He had gray hair pulled back in a long ponytail, bright blue eyes that always seemed to twinkle with a secret, and a very mischievous laugh. He played the guitar and sang Rock ‘n Roll songs with Jesus lyrics. I thought he was crazy. Then, I met his wife, Brenda. She is sweet and kind, not easily flustered, and very wise. Their son and I were in the same class from 7th grade through 12th. Brenda discipled me when I was in the 8th grade, Tom taught a Bible study in their home and when their daughter, got to junior high, I discipled her. Our lives were inextricably intertwined for a time, and the memories are buried deep inside of me.

I didn’t see them much after high school. I left most of PBC behind me when I moved to Abilene, or, at least I tried to. However, anytime there was a bridal shower or a baby shower to be hosted, you could guarantee Tom and Brenda would be at the center of it, continuing to celebrate life with the hundreds of kids that had come through their home over the years. I laughed a few years ago when I found out that the guys from my parents young marrieds’ class were attending a guys’ Bible study at their house. I don’t think Tom could have stopped investing in young lives if his life had depended on it.

But, there’s more to the story. Tom used to drive me nuts. He was rowdy and unpredictable. He said whatever was on his mind and seemed to take pleasure in embarrassing me by calling me out to pray or quote scripture in front of large audiences. If he heard I’d been on a date, those twinkling eyes would dance with glee as I sat in his livingroom, and, without regard to who was present, he’d ask for all the juicy details. Tom seemed to always be in trouble at church, too. He was forever ruffling feathers over some issue or another, being asked to step away from this ministry or that until things died down. People, including myself at times, weren't always ready for Tom's insistence on calling things like he saw them.

Monday morning, my best friend since junior high, Lauren, called at 7:30 a.m. Even though I was awake and studying my Bible at the time, I still consider that an ungodly hour, and I know she agrees, so I could only assume she had something important to tell me. Her voice sounded really confused as she told me what she’d just heard. Tom was dead. He died at home on Sunday afternoon, very unexpectedly. 52 years old. Dead. Bryan had called Kelly who called Amber who called Lauren. It was a long chain, but a tight one, and a reliable one. Still, it was too unbelievable. I called another friend with a close Prestonwood tie. She answered the phone with the words, “Yes, Kristen, it’s true. Tom's gone.” Evidently, he was working in the backyard and suffered a massive heart attack. The medical examiner who performed the autopsy says he shouldn’t have lived as long as he did based on the damage to his arteries.

It feels so surreal. Even today. But, the last few days of this week, I’ve had a good opportunity to reflect on his life. I expected to remember all of the things that drove me nuts. But, I didn’t. I could only remember the good things. You see, Tom Bailey is a part of my testimony. Three things stand out to me specifically when I recall his impact on my own life.

1) Tom never let a Bible study go by that he didn’t tell us repeatedly, “God always honors obedience.” And, I swear, everytime I’m tempted to take an easy way out, to willfully disobey, I hear Tom saying that over and over again. God always honors obedience. I hear myself saying it to others when I’m teaching or counseling. And, you know what I’ve discovered? God always honors obedience.

2) When I was 17, I began to seriously doubt my salvation. I was six years old when I committed my life to the Lord. How in the world could I have known what I was doing? I was a mess. I sat with Tom and Brenda at their kitchen table, distraught, confessing my worst fears. Tom just smiled at me and sent me home with instructions to pray, to ask the Lord to reveal to me if I was truly His. That night, I’ll never forget. The memories were so clear. I could see the afternoon before I was saved. I could remember how lost I felt, how convinced I was that Jesus was returning soon and I was not prepared to go with him. I could remember the night that my dad was tucking me into bed, and I cried out to him not to turn the lights out because I needed to know Jesus. Tom didn’t try to convince me of my salvation, he pointed me back to Jesus.

3) Finally, Tom was the man with the puzzles in my previous blog.

I still can’t believe I’m going to Tom’s funeral today. It seems so wrong. But, more than I’m sad that he’s gone, I’m so glad that he lived. I seriously doubt whether Tom or Brenda would remember any of those encounters, but they were life changing for me. God’s economy is so different from ours, isn’t it?