"This is Alan."His distinctive voice reaches over the miles as he answers my calls with his familiar greeting. He's busy; still running a construction crew at age 75. But he always makes time for conversation when he can.
When we met at a local church in 1973, his kind and unassuming manner made an immediate impression. There was a sense of recognition, of kinship, like meeting a brother after a long separation; also a sense of relief, like finally meeting someone who had answers for my questions.
The 70's were a time in my life when I was seeking more than the immediate. I wanted answers about God, about the reason for our existence. What is the purpose of life and who is God really? The traditional faith in which I was raised, made me feel boxed in and guilty for seeking God in a personal way. I began to feel that religion was more about tradition than personal relationship. I wanted something more than ritual because I couldn't connect to an act. Alan became for me a touchpoint to God's love.
After 36 years of friendship, I still seek his counsel through the ups and downs of my life and in moments of inspiration. He is always there, always making time for me. No questions are off limits, rebuffed, scrutinized, or judged. He always encourages me to speak what is on my mind. Jesus says in Matthew 18:
20For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them." I always feel that Jesus
is with Alan and me whenever we speak because something greater than either of us often comes to light as we explore the impressions each of us experience in various situations. The sharing is good for the soul and blesses us beyond words.
Last Friday, April 3rd, my family and I arrived at Santa Rosa Beach, Florida for spring break. It felt good to be back on the gulf shores with all the family in tow; our six kids, 4 spouses, and 7 grandchildren. It was going to be a wonderful week.
On Sunday morning I had just stepped out of the shower when my cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Is this Lori? In Illinois?"
"Yes."
"Hi Lori, it's Darlene."
"Hi, Darlene! How are you?"
"I'm okay."
I paused. It began to sink in that Darlene, Alan's wife, doesn't normally call.
"Is Alan okay?"
"Alan had a heart attack on Friday." Darlene went on to explain the details of his condition. We talked for a while then she asked me to contact the group of people, with whom Alan and I had been e-mailing the past 7 years, to ask for prayers for Alan and to let them know what was happening with him.
On Tuesday evening, as I had each night, I took my laptop and headed for Miss Lucille's Cafe` to access the internet and see if there was word of Alan's condition. Feeling apprehensive, I parked on the street in front of the cafe` and got on-line. There was a note from Jennifer, a mutual friend, which said in part,
"It is with many tears and much sadness that I give you this update. Alan has passed." I sat alone in the dark letting the tears flow as I felt the depth of loss sink into my heart. I will never hear his voice again. Everything has been said.
As the days pass, I try to grasp the reality of Alan's death. In recent conversations, we came to the mutual agreement that being able to express our faith and discoveries about God so freely made all the difference in each of our lives. Our conversations helped us to grow spiritually throughout the years. We often talked about how God uses every person and thing in our lives to teach us more about Him, about His love for us. We came to realize that nothing is wasted - that all things have purpose in moving us closer to Him.
Though words are inadequate to fully relate what his friendship meant to me, how his counsel helped me through the chapters of my life, I carry with me the memory of his kind words and wisdom that never fail to assure me that God's love is all-encompassing and His mercy and grace have no limit.
This is merely one person's tribute to Alan to say that his friendship blessed my life more than words can say. I miss him deeply. But I also believe he would encourage those who love him to celebrate with joy for him, knowing that he is where he longed to be, back with his Heavenly Father.
Good-bye, dear brother...for now.
I love you,
Lori