Prof

If you live in Dallas, you might have heard a loud growl and clap of thunder this morning around 5:30 am. You may have seen a bright flash of lightning accompanying the thunder. It was the only thunder anyone heard all morning, and you can think whatever you want about that. My family and I have already decided it was the sound of one of God's warriors going home at last. 

I haven't blogged in a while, and I'm not quite sure why - I think of ideas that I plan to write about, but I can never fully commit. Maybe my everyday life doesn't move me to eloquence - maybe it should, but it doesn't. But grief is a powerful motivator, and this time, I might actually hit the publish button. This morning (around 5:30 am, if you haven't guessed), my grandfather Howard "Prof" Hendricks left this world and met his Savior face to face. As my aunt said, "Heaven has expanded a little, but here, we are diminished by that much more."

My grandfather was a giant of a man, a theologian, who lived and loved to teach and to powerfully expound upon the glorious mysteries of the word of God. He was not in his element playing with young grandchildren, and my deepest sadness in this is that I enjoyed so little time with him during my adult years, when it would have been possible to sit at the feet of a scholar beloved by so many and discuss with him both the vital importance of God's word and the prospects of the Cowboys' season with [near] equal passion. In some ways, I feel like the students and alumni of Dallas Theological Seminary have a better frame of reference for Granddaddy and what his life was about than I.

But as I began to think about it, it occurred to me how many mentors and counselors and teachers I have been blessed with in my time. A middle school bible study leader, a host of college students at camp during my adolescence and then leaders, some of them wise theologians in their own right, while working at camp during college. Pastors and group leaders, in different stages of learning. And then it struck me. My middle school leader had gone to DTS, and taken Prof's classes. My pastors, my group leaders, many of them have benefited from the wisdom of Living by the Book or Teaching to Change Lives. My husband and I received premarital counseling from another of Prof's students and colleagues, sitting in his former office at DTS. And then there is Pine Cove, where I spent many hours of joy, pain, brokenness and healing, where I first claimed Jesus as my Lord. It was first conceived and prayed over in the 1960s by four men in a boat - one of whom was my grandfather. Despite having never entered one of his seminary classes at all, my life and faith has nonetheless been profoundly and utterly impacted by the work of my grandfather and his faithful service to the King.

I have heard that Granddaddy said that you will never understand what it means to live a fulfilled life until you have changed someone else's. Clearly, he changed the lives of many - including mine. He didn't come from privilege, or a loving home of faith - and yet God used him in ways that will echo for decades and centuries to come. I am struck by this, and I wonder: who will be impacted by my life in such a way? If anything, the life of Howard Hendricks - even as it ends - spurs me to act, to do things that matter and stop wasting time, as we have no time to waste. I do not want to look back and find that I have lived a life that mattered little. It is my prayer that we might all love Jesus as deeply as my granddad did, and because of that love, go forth and impact someone else's life.

Granddaddy, you were - and are - dearly loved, and you will be deeply missed. Thank you for the echoes you have left behind on so many hearts. Hallelujah, we will meet again.