My brother, hero, and friend

Thanks so much to those of you who prayed for Brad during his health scare and for Blake while he served in the Middle East. Brad has been able to continue mission work in Peru and is now back in the States for a few weeks. Blake has also made it safely home. And - so hard to believe - my brother Tom has gone home to Heaven.

He became critically ill very suddenly, and for more than two weeks, we asked that God would heal him if it were His perfect will.

"Our prayers have all been answered. I've finally arrived.

The healing that had been delayed has now been realized....

My light and temporary trials have worked out for my good,

To know it brought Him glory, when I misunderstood.

Though we've had our sorrows, they can never compare.

What Jesus has in store for us, no language can share.

"If you could see me now, I'm walking streets of gold.

If you could see me now, I'm standing strong and whole.

If you could see me now, you'd know I've seen His face.

If you could see me now, you'd know the pain is erased.

You wouldn't want me to ever leave this place,

If you could only see me now." - Kim Noblitt

There is an emptiness that will never be filled here, but such thankfulness for the person he was, for the relationship we had, and for the blessed hope of seeing him again.

My memories of Tom begin when I was around three or four and he was twelve, but I don’t remember the life-and-eternity-shaping event that took place in his life at that time, just his retelling of it. Our family had moved to Lake Charles, LA, and our dad took Tom to visit the Church of the Nazarene on Easter Sunday evening, 1959. In that service, Tom felt his heart touched with conviction, and he asked permission from our dad to go forward and pray. “I’m not living the way I should,” our dad told him, “but I don’t want to hold you back.” Tom’s heart was changed that night as he was saved and called to preach.

Tom was a wonderful big brother. My special times with Tom were when he would take me to church. I always wanted to go, and until he left for college he was almost always willing to take me with him.He was a leader in the youth group, the “preacher boy” who preached in nursing homes and on the corner by the bus station. He was my hero.

Until he married, Tom was “Tommy,” and many of his hometown friends never stopped calling him that. The feelings they have shared during the past days have been so strong, the memories so powerful. “Tom modeled Jesus for so many of us,” one wrote. I know that he modeled Jesus for me.

Tom left home when I was only nine, so our times together were reduced to Sunday night phone calls, Christmas vacations, and a few weeks in the summer. He married the love of his life, Carol Keithley, just before his final semester of Bible college, and I finally had a sister! They began their first pastorate many miles away. Visiting them, or having them come home, was always a highlight. As a senior in high school, I was privileged to live near them. Tom and I discovered that in many ways we were kindred spirits, and the bond that we forged during that year has been a deep source of joy ever since.

Tom loved a good laugh. He would latch on to some small joke and tell it again and again, enjoying it more each time. When someone talked about how much milk they had to buy for their family, Tom would say, “We spill more than that!” It was probably true. If a girl had on a trendy pair of shoes, he might ask, “How long is the doctor making you wear those?” When he saw a large man getting out of a small car, he’d say, “Let me help you get that thing off.”

Some of my most treasured memories were made when Tom took me - and later me and my children - on long horseback rides through the open ranges of Idaho and Montana. But any time with him was special. We could talk about almost anything together - and we did, but not as often as we should have as life crowded in and we were both so busy with our own families. Still, I could always expect a phone call on my birthday, Mothers' Day, and holidays. And I cherish the times when we were able to travel together, filling the miles with conversation and laughter - and sometimes a few tears. His insights and wisdom made my life so much richer.

When Tom walked through dark times, he seemed to always emerge sweeter and more Christ-like. He was wise beyond his years, in part due to the adversities of his life. In his late twenties, he encountered a series of storms that tested his faith to its very limits. As he leaned hard on God’s grace, those trials – like others that followed them - only served to make him more understanding and more compassionate.

Tom never came across as “holier than thou.” To the contrary, he was always vulnerable about his weaknesses. But being around him made us somehow want to be better. He always saw the best in us, saw through eyes of mercy and hope what we could be. And he loved and enjoyed us just as we were, unconditionally. Tom was special.

Although I can’t imagine life here without him, Heaven is sweeter because Tom is there.