I remember him being so strong and influential. Over t he summer months, we stayed in our house in the Adirondack Mountains in Schroon Lake, NY. When I was young, I was an early riser and often found myself joining him for a short while in the dining room while he did his Bible Study. He’d put his pen and notebook away, and we’d eat doughnuts together—he ate powdered, and I ate cinnamon sugar.
The man with the sleek, blue, speed boat glided across the glass waters in the early morning. The blue heron gracefully digs its talons inot the soft sand, scouting for its breakfast. He told me all about the birds and how God made everything with special design in mind.
We’d watch the hummingbirds sip from the feeder, and a tougher one would swoop down and scare the other hummingbirds away. We called him “Boss.”
Within a matter of minutes he’d send me back to bed. We usually shared special moments like these, special moments I’ll always cherish.
And it was moments like these that I thought of driving home from hanging out with a friend one night while I listened to John Denver. We always listened to him in the summer. The music caused all of the memories to come flooding back, and I cried. But then I got a vision that he was dancing in Heaven with a huge smile on his face. It's as if God had already take his spirit.
He's now bed ridden, and the only thing keeping him alive is his pace-maker. Whenever his heart stops, the pace-maker jolts it back to life. I had another vision where I saw his spirit leave his body. In my mind, he's basically dead, but that's ok because I think God has already taken him up to Heaven where he shall live in endless joy, worshiping God in His glory forever.
