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.

One of our patriarchs at the church passed away a couple of days ago. A sad day for us left here on earth. A glorious day for him to see Jesus. As we've sat around, cried tears and shared stories of all that he had done and all that he was to each of us, I thought I would share a few words about him.

1. A man of quite gentle faithfulness. Del was a gentleman through and through. He had a quiet countenance about him. He was faithful in everything, even what some would consider to be the smallest of details. He didn't consider anything beneath him. He served and lived out his faith quietly and gently.

2. A man of loyal service. Del served our Lord, by serving His church. Del made himself available to help out whenever needed. From signing checks, to counting money, to filling the pens in the seatbacks, to picking up trash, to smiling and shaking hands at the front doors, to leading our Elders, and the list goes on... Week in and week out, he was there. Del served faithfully and loyally.

3. An unselfish man. Del put others first. As many have said, he did not particularly like the type of music we played during worship. However, he put the potential for others to hear the Word above his personal preference for music. Also, he would assist elderly women who had no means of transportation.

4. A man of discipline. I met Del after he had his heart surgery. But I knew him to disciplined in his eating habits and exercise habits. Every morning, I mean early morning, he would rise and go to the rehab center. Not only did he go there to work-out, but he went there to minister to others in the program.

5. A man of family. If anyone had a conversation with Del for longer than 5 minutes, you knew how important all of his family was to him. He was always talking about his grandkids, going to eat donuts with them, watching soccer or baseball, having them over to spend the night. You knew he loved them through his words, but also through his actions.

6. A man of humility. Del never sought praise for himself. While he served faithfully, he also served humbly. He was an example to those of who remain behind.

7. A man who listens. A good friend of mine said, when you spoke with Del, you had his full attention. He had the gift of listening whole-heartedly. He paid respect to whoever he was in conversation with.

8. A man of surprises. When I started working at the church, Mr. Del was on the Counter Team along with Gerry, Emmette, Tim, and Danny. Shortly thereafter, Sherry joined the team. What a combination we all were. My office at the time was nothing but furniture and a door. However, every Sunday after the 11 a.m. service, a combination of us would gather in my office to count the money and post to the database. We had great times together telling stories, laughing, and watching things just grow. We would be in the middle of a conversation. Del would be quietly working, and then he would pop off with a little comment. Which, by the way, would throw all of into hysterical laughter. Which, in turn, would cause him to get so tickled his face would turn pink and he wouldn't be able to stop laughing. Sometimes, the old saying 'the good ole days' has meaning...

There are many more attributes of this man. While his mere presence and name commanded respect, he would not have desired the attention to be drawn unto himself. He would have preferred that the testimony of his faith in Jesus commanded the respect.

We will miss him and love him dearly. However, he is sitting with our Lord and Savior right now - pain free and cancer free. What better place could he be?

Del and his wife, Gerry, at our 2006 Village Church Staff Christmas Party.