Reunited

Today I had the pleasure of reuniting with an old friend, my old youth pastor Sam Halverson.  It has been a little over 15 years since I have seen or spoken to Sam.  He left our church about half way through my freshman year in high school.  Last week I was doing a dog training eval and the topic of church came up ( yes, at training evals we often end up talking about a million other things besides dogs) and I mentioned I grew up in the Methodist Church.  They asked me if I knew Sam Halverson.  I sat for a minute and realized I did indeed know Sam.  They went on to tell me that he was the youth pastor at their church.  I had thought he had moved up north and was thrilled to hear he was back in Georgia.  I asked them to please give him my card and tell him I would like to speak with him if he had time.  

   I am sure you are wondering why I was so excited to find out my old youth minister had moved back to Georgia.  Here is the back story:  When I began middle school I started attending the youth group at our church and Sam was the leader.  That was around 1992, when I was in sixth grade.  On July 4 1993 my father died while running the Peachtree Road Race.  The day it happened is somewhat blurry to me now but there are a few things that I can still see in my mind as clear as day.  Shortly after I found out what had happened my friend Ross and I decided we would go to the pool.  There were a lot of adults at my house and I wanted to get away.  While at the pool the phone rang and someone (don't remember who) told me that I needed to go home because someone was here from the church to see me.  I arrived home to find Sam at my house.  I don't remember what he said but do remember just burying my face in his chest and just sobbing the kind of tears that come from a hurt that few will ever know.  He stayed until I calmed down and over the next few months he made a great effort to spend time with me and just be there if I needed him.  Those acts of kindness have never been forgotten.  

   Fast forward 15 years later and Sam and I are eating hamburgers at Red Robin discussing the ins and outs of youth ministry.  We talked for almost two hours and at the end I finally got the chance to thank him for what he did for me back in July 1993.  Before we left he said that shortly after my fathers death he had written a poem about it. I told him I would love a copy if he could find it and he said he would gladly send it my way.  He followed up with the fact that it was probably going to hurt to stir all that up again.  I think that's ok though, we all need to be stirred up from time to time.