"All words are symbols that represent unspeakable realities. Which is also why words are magical." (Donald Miller tweet)

Wednesday, November 06, 2019

Stephen

This is Stephen. 



I met him almost exactly four years ago.

On November 9, 2015,  I walked into my new job, new office, new life at Evangel. If memory serves, I was introduced to Stephen on that very first day.

"Stephen is one of our volunteers. He ... struggles ... sometimes, but we love him."

"It's ok," I said. "I get it."

Stephen would come and do a little cleaning at the church. Near the end of a day, if no one was on the office computer, he'd ask us to turn on a Jimmy Swaggart music video, and he'd sit and watch it at top volume.

Confession: I would then close my door,
because it was the same song, over and over again,
and I just couldn't deal with it.

Any time one of us walked past, he'd check to see if we were going to Tim Horton's.

"Could I have a coffee?"
"Sure, Stephen."

Jasmine usually made sure he got home safely at the end of the day.

Stephen struggled with his health sometimes.

"Can I have one of those candy bars?"
"Sure you can Stephen."
"But I have diabetes. I probably shouldn't, should I?"
"Well ... probably not."
"Ok. I won't."


He struggled with his faith sometimes too.

"Pastor Patti, I think God might hate me."
"He doesn't hate you, Stephen. God loves you."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely sure."

A satisfied smile and a fist bump.
"Ok. Thank you very much."
"You're welcome."

Sometimes he would eat lunch with all of us. Sometimes he needed some alone time, and sat in a room by himself. Sometimes we wouldn't see him at all for awhile, but eventually he would pop by again.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday, Jasmine put in a call to his worker, just to check to see how he was. There was a painful silence, and then the worker gently told her that Stephen passed away a couple of weeks ago. It happened very quickly, very unexpectedly.

So that hit us all, in the middle of a Tuesday, in our church office. Can't quite believe he's gone. We're going to miss him.

But I'm comforted by the thought that he knows - he knows now - how very loved he is by God.

Until we meet again, Stephen.