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A Legacy of Faith

A green, lush lawn; a white church backdropped by the Arizona night sky; an exhausted boy lying sleeping on the grass. This was precisely what a group of black men found on the church lawn one arid night almost fifty years ago. As one of them confusedly surveyed the strange sight on the grass, he probably reasoned that the boy might be dead, doubtless due to the 112 degrees of the day before. Suddenly, the boy’s eyes opened, causing the man to exclaim, “Man, we thought you was dead!” That boy on the lawn was my grandfather, a spirited hitchhiker of fifteen, and although both age and Jesus have considerably softened him, his amazing stories of events long past give us a glimpse of the young person he still is inside. But even though his stories keep his grandchildren captivated for hours, a deeper influence is at work.

“Come sit with me, Ev” is a phrase I often hear during our grandparents’ visits. I come sit down on the couch across from my grandpa and listen to him, amazed at how h…

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