Jimmy’s legacy will continue to live on in so many ways. This will be one of the best and most personal. Whether you knew Jimmy or not, follow Todd into the unfamiliar waters ahead and learn some great lessons about faith, family and friendship (and probably fishing).

No moment in time will ever be repeated. Not one. Each is unique. And God has given us each moment to enjoy.

Over the last several days, the preciousness of life has become blatantly clear once again. Does that mean I’ve completely changed the way I live my life? No. Have I made the most of every moment this week? Sadly, no. I’ve missed the mark a lot – with God, my wife, my kids and my friends.

But my prayer is that as I continue to move forward, I will make the most of more of those moments. And I pray that I never take a moment like any of these for granted.

Yesterday was also a very crappy day. Because for many, it marked the beginning of a life without a friend who meant so much to each of us. That beginning actually occured Saturday night. But yesterday, it became real for a lot of people.

Yes, Jimmy is home in heaven. Yes, we can have joy in knowing that he is on that mountaintop. But now, there is going to be a valley for us. For some, that valley is going to be easily traversed. For others, that valley is going to be deep and dark.

For Tricia, Braxton, Auston, Jimmy’s parents and family; for Todd and Trena, Jeff and Ginger, Steve and Kim, Wayne and Jill, Mark and Libba, Carissa and me, Ray and Jazen; for Josh, Dan, Justin, Tianne, Sara, Kara, Mark, Deana, Carlotta, Terry and the entire Fellowship family; and for countless, countless others – the valley is going to be rough.

But I want to encourage all of you to continue looking up, even in the midst of the shadows; especailly in the midst of those shadows. That’s not something that I think you need to be told. But a reminder can’t hurt. Because each of us will greive in our own way, in our own time. Maybe you’ve gotten to the point of beginning that process for yourself. But as you face each day in this new life, trust that God will lead you. Because, as the Scriptures say:

He restores my soul.
       He guides me in paths of righteousness
       for his name’s sake. 
 Even though I walk
       through the valley of the shadow of death,  
       I will fear no evil,
       for you are with me… (Psalm 23:3-4).

Maybe you know the story. Maybe you don’t. But Jimmy and Todd were great friends. They worked together, ministered together, fished together, and (if there had been indoor plumbing at Todd’s lease), they might have ended up hunting together. Though Jimmy probably would have just shown up to tell jokes more than actually hunt.

I can’t put into words what this feels like tonight. Jimmy and Todd. To me, you don’t get one without the other. They were together when I met them over 6 years ago. They were together when they took the chance to hire Carissa over 4 years ago. They were together when they led. Together when they laughed and joked. They were always together. Even when job responsibilities changed, they made the time to be together. They were the picture perfect definition of close friends.

And now, Jimmy’s gone.

Although, Todd would be the first to tell you that Jimmy isn’t gone. He’s home. It’s a shocking statement to say about someone who was just 33. And for the first time, as I write this, the tears are flowing. I guess I’ve been in shock. But I cry, not for Jimmy. He’s better off than any of us. I cry for his wife, Tricia, and his two sons, Braxton and Auston. Of course. But I also cry for Todd and the many, many people who had a relationship with Jimmy that was just as special. 

Jimmy was one of the most generous, caring people I’ve ever known. He was willing to open up and share anything with anyone. He was a great leader.  A great man. A great example of what a deep, personal, intimate relationship with Jesus can do.

Jimmy will be missed. By Todd and so many others. But there’s no doubt about it. The friendships that he left behind will continue to shine light on a dark world. And Jimmy’s influence will continue to resonate through Fellowship Church and every single life he touched.

And although there won’t be any more Jimmy and Todd together on earth, there’s a special fishing hole in heaven waiting for Todd. And I bet Jimmy’s got a line in the water already.

Yes, possessing one of the sport’s world’s most coveted authographs is amazing. There are times that I just stare at it in sheer disbelief. But there’s more to it. When I got that autograph, I began a love affair with the New York Yankees and Babe Ruth – a love affair that continues to this day. I know, I know. You either love ‘em or hate ‘em. And I love ‘em.

Because of that, I’ve read countless books and articles on both the Yankees and Babe Ruth. And in all the reading on Babe Ruth, one thing seemed to come up more than anything else. People, reporters, fans everywhere wanted to know his secret to hitting homeruns. They asked him about it all the time. This is one of his answers:

“I swing as hard as I can, and I try to swing right through the ball. The harder you grip the bat, the more you can swing it through the ball, and the farther the ball will go. I swing big, with everything I’ve got. I hit big or I miss big. I like to live as big as I can.”

I’ve thought about that answer before. But I never really connected the dots with why that answer meant so much to me. But as I reflect on that statement now, it makes me think of another statement spoken many years ago. Only this statement is more than an answer to the secret of hitting homeruns. It’s the secret to living “as big as I can.”

Jesus said in John 10:10, “I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

You want to live big? You want to hit homeruns every day? Then hold on with faith to Christ as hard as you can. And let him do the swinging for you.

But in his eyes, getting better wasn’t enough. He could only focus on the fact that, at one point during the game, he “could only move back and forth to one spot, Dad!”

Reminding him that the point of the game is to stay alive didn’t help. In fact, that only added fuel to the fire. Because to him, staying alive is boring. There’s more to the game than jumping back and forth between one spot. And that’s when it hit me.

My son is just like me. To him, it’s not enough to just stay alive.

Of course, that’s something I knew about him. After all, I’ve had almost nine years with the kid. I’m pretty sure I know him by now. But the more I get to know him, the more I get to know myself. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what is getting in the way of him and me lately. We’ve just been staying alive lately. So I think it’s time that he and I start really living. Together.

And then, the teacher assigned the parents the greatest assignment I’ve ever been given as a parent. We were tasked with writing a letter to our children about our dreams for them.

So Carissa and I, late last night, sat down to write a letter to our oldest son explaining our dreams for his future. It was something that I thought wouldn’t mean much, really. After all, this was just a school assignment, right? Wrong.

As we wrote the letter, all of the (for lack of a better word) crap that goes along with being the parent of an 8 year old boy disappeared. I wasn’t concerned about the attitude, the eye rolls, the sarcasm. All I was concerned with was Jackson’s future, and where I hope…no, scratch that. Where I know he can go and what he can accomplish.

As we wrote the letter, I was reminded of my call as a father, my responsiblity as a parent. And it made me reflect on my heavenly Father’s role as the dreamer in my life.

God puts up with a lot of (for lack of a better word) crap from me. But He never, ever stops dreaming for me. I hope the same goes for me. I hope I never stop dreaming for Jackson. And I pray he never stops dreaming for himself.

(You sang along, didn’t you?)