I just returned from the memorial service of our dear friend, Del. What a time of honoring and praising a man who always preferred not to be in the spotlight. He always sought out the lost, the one who was a little away from the crowd, and I pray that through his service today the same occurred.

As I stood in the foyer to hand-out programs, I saw people from days gone by dawn the doors of the church. You see I started working at First Baptist Church of Highland Village, as it was formerly known, six years ago almost to the day. The church was small with about 200 adults coming to church faithfully week in and week out. I observed these families gather in the foyer, shake hands, hug, smile, laugh, and share stories of how their week went. Their children were not quite in college or just leaving for college. They would share tears. And they would share their fears, expectations, hopes, and try not to be the weepy 'parent.'

Today was an emulation of those days gone by. Six years in, we now have over 3,500 adults on average dawn the doors of the church in Highland Village alone. About 20 miles up the road, another 650 adults attend our Denton campus. While I am grateful for what the Lord has done (and I'm not truly speaking numerics here), I do miss the community of families that drew me and my family in. You see in this group of about 200 adults, I knew all of their names. I knew their names by their faces or their spouse's face. I knew their children. But what was greater was I knew they loved the Lord and felt a calling to this place becoming The Village.

Due to various circumstances, some of them no longer attend. They have moved on to other churches, moved to other states, or haven't step into the doors of a church for years. It is for the latter that I grieve. I grieve for their loss of relationship with our Lord Jesus. I grieve for their loss of community. I grieve for their loss of being known with a group of people with whom they walked and journeyed through some dark circumstances. I grieve because, selfishly, I miss them. I miss seeing their face, their laugh, witness their tears, watching them smile, worshiping, hoping...

I am grateful for this gift that was provided today because of our dear friend's passing. This gift is the gift of friends.