Faye’s father died earlier this week. Not her biological father, and I can’t remember exactly where he fit in the scheme of things. But in his latter days, Faye was the primary care-giver. I admire that. Since Faye was in our 40 Days of Purpose group this fall, we went to the viewing last night in Geneva, where the ice remains very thick on the trees. Further south, telephone poles had snapped in half, unable to bear the weight of ice on the lines.

Faye’s father served in the Navy during World War 2, and saw action, particularly in the Battle of Leyte Gulf. At the viewing, we saw a neat seaman’s photo, which seemed very typical of other Navy photos of that era. He served on an aircraft carrier called, I think, the Kutkin Bay‚Äîone I hadn’t heard of. There was a commendation from the WW2-era Secretary of the Navy, given evidently to everyone who served on the Kutkin Bay, commending them for their important role in the battle.

Kris, another member of our 40 Days group, rode with us. Kris, too, is the primary care-giver for an aging father who, as in Faye’s case, is not her biological father. Kris never knew her real father. He died during World War 2. Her dad was the oldest of seven children, and their father had died when he was just 12. He was teaching school when he received his draft notice. He could have gotten out of it. Two younger brothers were already serving, and he was, essentially, the head of household with kids still at home. It’s just that he received his draft notice in the county where he was teaching, and they didn’t know his situation. But he went. And he left a pregnant wife behind.

Kris’s Dad received the Silver Star for bravery in action. That’s not a medal they give out lightly. He was wounded in December 1944 in Germany, spent quite a bit of time in a field hospital, and then was sent home. But he didn’t quite make it all the way home. A liver infection set in, a result of his wounds, and he died in the States before his wife could reach him.

After 9/11, we held one of our Christian punk-hardcore concerts. One band, in what to them was a display of patriotism, covered their display table with an American flag (or at least a cloth bearing the stars and stripes). Kris, who knows the etiquette behind how flags are to be used and not used, was upset. She said her father died in defense of what that flag represents, and she felt they were using it dishonorably. I wasn’t disturbed by it‚Äîlike I said, I saw it as their display of patriotism. But then, I don’t have a father who died fighting for his country.

We stopped to eat on the way back, and that’s when I asked Kris to tell me what she knew about her father. She said he was a hometown hero, with the VFW post named after him. She also admitted that she holds an idealized image of her father, since she never saw a man who, undoubtedly, had his own collection of flaws and quirks. All she sees is a man of heroic proportions. Kris, who is a prayer warrior, said some women are unable to have a proper image of God as Father, because they carry too much baggage from what their earthly father was like. But Kris has never had that problem. Her father is someone extraordinary to her, and when she thinks of God the Father, there is no baggage–just an extraordinary and loving Father. And when she prays, she connects.

Two years ago, I attended a Youth Specialties Conference in Indianapolis with about six others from my church. At one point, they had a contest to see who, among the hundreds of people attending, had the most combination of tattoos and piercings. We may have been one of the smaller churches represented, but we know our youth culture. Tony, one of our college students, won. I think he had 13 total. I don’t remember how it breaks down between piercings and tattoos. Tony did us proud.

Tony heads up our concert ministry. Every month, 80-140 teens and young adults crowd into our downstairs fellowship hall for a concert with 3-5 bands of the hard-core variety. Lots of screaming, little comprehension of lyrics. If there, indeed, are lyrics. Pam and I attend most of the concerts. It’s a fascinating crowd. There is swearing and smoking and the F-word splattered on black T-shirts and adornments that smell occultish. A few months ago, someone peed on a children’s Bible in the church. I’m glad these types of people come to our church. And we have Tony to thank for that.

Tony grew up with no church background. None. He was exposed to Christians through Christian concerts like the ones we do. However, he became a Christian pretty much on his own. It was a case of God reaching down, directly to Tony, and grabbing hold of him. One night in the privacy of his own apartment (having had to leave home while still in high school, I believe), Tony accepted Christ. Nobody told him how to do it, what to pray, or anything else. Just him and God. How much purer can you get?

On New Year’s Day, Tony and Marcia were married. They met at Taylor University-Fort Wayne, and have been dating for the past year or so. A great match. Marcia’s upbringing was more traditional than Tony’s–a Christian family, and she did the cheerleader thing. Some might say Tony “corrupted” her, though it wouldn’t be her parents. Or me. They just fit well together.

The wedding was held at my church, Anchor. I was surprised that Tony and the four groomsmen wore tuxedos, that the gals wore regular wedding gowns, and that Marcia’s wedding dress was traditional and gorgeous. But they also, all of them, wore Converse tennis shoes. A nice touch.

At the reception afterwards, they served vegan cake and regular cake. Both Tony and Marcia are vegan. And they’re both skinny as can be. I suspect that, though God doesn’t disapprove of eating meat, their diet is more honoring to God and a better stewardship of his temple than the fatty intake of most of the rest of us. Pam likes chocolate cake, but the only chocolate was vegan. I brought her a piece, but didn’t tell her. She remarked that the icing was hard. Well, it was hard on my vanilla non-vegan cake, too.

For the dance–yes, people danced in our United Brethren church–Tony and Marcia chose disco music. Another nice touch. It lent a somewhat bizarre atmosphere to the reception.

Tony and Marcia love the Lord. I wish the best for their marriage. Many Christians would consider them (or at least Tony) a little “out there.” But I’m a huge fan. Tony is one of the most evangelistic persons in our congregation, and he’s made a difference in people’s lives. May that continue and thrive.