With a heart celebrating in its sorrow because of great love, I give you my Saturday Post-
The amount of stories and passing memories flow in and out of my waking mind as I look back over my concept of Andrew. SOOOO many buzzwords, faith, family, obedience, Godfather…
He served God, and did so with all that was in him. In serving God he served man, and the world was affected by him. He fell a few times, scuffed up his knees and elbows, but he always got back up and continued to run the race. He did not stop fighting the fight of faith, and when he went home, he was in the midst of doing the work of God.
Andrew lived for his family, no matter how you define that word. From a ninja loving adolescent in Wire Mountain 2, he stepped up to be a father and husband/provider for our immediate family. It was not easy for him, and it took the hand of God to help him shift from the mentality of aww man I have to… to whoa man I get to… and neither choice came without affliction and mistakes. And he is my big brother. And he did for me what all big brothers were supposed to do for their little sisters, but he did the Andrew way.
I’ll never forget the time he and I went to the Arlington Cemetery and Iwo Jima Memorial. I’ll never forget singing in the LCC choir with him (and getting in trouble because we were “Bearding out”). I’ll never forget when I drove out from Kingman, Arizona to Las Vegas to see him when he was with Pastor Johnson. I will never forget when he took me to Panera and over chipotle chicken panini, he apologized for having “salt sprinkled with grace” instead of “grace sprinkled with salt”. Or the #1 cook apron I made for both he and Eric the same Christmas. Or the photos on the steps that we took every Thanksgiving. Or the way he told stories. Or the times he gave me verses to meditate on when I was going through trials. His made-up words that have become part of my lexicon. Cutting up at Myc’s wedding, trying not to laugh when they poured the unity sand. Giving him the boutonniere at my own wedding, and his look of “what am I supposed to do with this?” His RANDOM voicemails. His not-so-random voicemails.
He was the one I called when the doctors found the lump in my breast. He was the one I called when the lumps were gone. We prayed together. We praised together. My big brother man of God. There are so many words, and I’ll never say this right. But I love my big brother, and I know that he loved me, I know he loved God, and I KNOW that God loves him. He and my Moses are up in heaven right now, praising God together – both races run beautifully.
Number 7 by the lake at the Eternal Hills Cemetery and Mortuary in Oceanside, CA is his final address. Andrew is in our hearts, but feel free to share time and space at the point of contact.
With words, song and prayer,
TiMo
