Jason Weathers' faith has become sight

Last night, just before 11:00 p.m. his chains were removed and he was set free in the land where the Son shines forever. I am a better man for having the privilege of being his friend for 18 years, just over half of his life.

And now, I am short one role model.

Role models need not be older, though they usually are. Mainly, though, role models just need to be better. And Jason was. He claimed he was influenced by me; perhaps so, in terms of knowledge. But much more, he influenced me via his life and faith.

The last words he ever spoke directly to me--in the parking lot at Starbucks--were "I love you, Mike." The last words that I know of that he ever spoke about me were to his precious wife as I was about to head out to MDA for this hellacious cancer treatment: "Tell Mike I'm praying for him." If I could pick 2 "last" sentences to hear from a much-loved buddy, I'd pick those 2. To think of Jason, sick as a dog from chemo-related pneumonia for weeks, taking the time to pray for me...as I say, role models just need to be better. And he was.

A couple of movie scenes. First, Forrest Gump. Forrest & Jennie are throwing rocks at the house where her father mistreated her until they collapse in exhaustion. Forrest says, "sometimes there aren't enough rocks." Well, turning the scene completely around, though I am a lover of words, sometimes there just aren't enough words to properly capture the depth of my thoughts & feelings. This is most assuredly one of those times.

The other mentioned yesterday here, from The Last Samurai. The application to me is very straightforward. I will not reduce Jason to the last week of his life...breathing machines, seizures, & such. Thus, I will not tell how he died. But I will always talk about how he lived! Triumphantly, in a word. Exemplary, in another word. Faithfully, in yet another. Lovingly. With great fun and many laughs along the way.

The Emperor: “Tell me how he died.”
The American: “I will tell you how he lived.”

John Piper says there are some emotions too deep to be captured by anything except poetry. I'm not much of a poet, though I've tried a couple of times. Ironically, both of my real poems were written after the passing of great friends and role models. Anyway, I find Piper to be correct in this thinking. Thus, without apology for quality, and with hope that a piece of my soul as relates to a departed buddy has been captured, here's something I began writing yesterday when I heard that Jason's departure was likely at hand. It was completed last night after his homegoing.

May we all finish so well!

Giants
Mike Madaris, 7/12/08, on the coronation of my buddy Jason Weathers

Giants still walk the land occasionally.
I know this, because I knew one.
Physically strong and imposing
But that’s not the topic here,
For, he was not fearsome
Unless you lined up opposite him
On a football field
Or tried to throw him into a pool against his will.
Those aside, He got along with everybody.
Literally, everybody, as far as I knew.
Calm of demeanor, yet loved to laugh.
Quiet in personality, yet loved hard rock.
Intelligent, but not desiring to flaunt that.
Private, yet the son of a very public man
And later, married into another very public family.
In the midst of all, he was a giant.

The courtship. She was the only one.
They met when her Dad took a job at the giant’s church.
And his Dad’s. And his Granddad’s.
The realizing came quickly to most.
These two were a match.
They realized it too.
The courtship lasted until they finished college.
And he remained a giant.
Always loving, yet always honoring.
Serving. Cherishing. As it was intended to be.
Role models. Giants.
Who else marries a giant, but another giant after all?

10 years of marriage. A move to FL.
3 children deeply treasured.
One looks like her mother, yet like Dad in temperament.
One looks like his Dad, yet tempered like his mother.
And one too young to answer these questions
Though she surely looks like her Dad.
Each nurtured. Treasured. Celebrated.
Giants are like that about their offspring.

A servant’s heart.
Toward his lady. Toward his children.
Toward his friends. Toward his Lord.
Church service involved the out of the way
The behind the scenes
The un-glamorous
The invisible.
Sometimes giants stay in the background.
Perhaps that is why so few of us believe in them any more.

The servant heart spilled over into career choice.
Especially poignant to me this week
As I have been greatly served and blessed by multiple nurses
As a patient, the best in that field are wired as servants.
Others-centered. Paycheck almost incidental.
Towering over the rest of us.
Giants.

The dreadful disease with the nasty prognosis
The treatment nearly as nasty
Uncertainty. Doubt. Fear.
In this case, for others more than self
Beloved wife and treasured children.
Parents. Parents-in-law. Brother. Brother-in-law.
Not wanting to burden others with the battle he fought so well.
The larger men among us worry about us like that.

7 months of desperate fighting.
Interspersed with time spent with family and with lesser mortals.
Like me. At Starbucks. Still dreaming of an earthly future that would never be.
Then the end; rather, the beginning.
What, after all, is a last, horrendous week against 30+ years of a towering-above life?
Faith became sight.
Death & disease forever vanquished.
Healing. No more illness, no more treatment, no more pain.
“Well Done, good and faithful servant.” The stuff of dreams. Thankfully, not of legends.
Hopes and dreams realized.
Sin not only defeated, but now utterly removed.
As has been sung, "I can only imagine." He need not imagine any more.
This makes me smile through tears.
Victory won. Decisively. Forever.
It is well…it is well with his soul.
In that land, there are only giants. Now one more.
And this land seems all the more empty.

(Want to catch a glimpse of a life so well-lived? Click over to Jason & Steph's Caringbridge site and read through the journals, written by his wife and his brother and his brother-in-law. Then read through the guestbook and note how far and wide the posts are geographically.)

So, Jason, my friend...catch you later. Where we'll laugh about how AML & melanoma truly were "light & momentary afflictions" as Paul put it so long ago. Save me a seat at the concert of the age, where we'll headbang for eternity. (although your section of the audience might not allow hammerheads like myself in...can I play the "friend of Jason" card? *smile*)

Thanks for sharing dreams, hard rock music, coffee, fears, triumphs, joys, and sorrows with me, bro. Rock on! You'll be missed. And celebrated.

With much love,
Mike - 2 John 3:1