Very seldom do I include personal anecdotes in my writings, or stories for that matter. I guess I adopted this principle for myself from my own father who was the greatest laborer in the Gospel I ever knew. No, you will not find his name, Lewis Livingston, in the annuls of public preachers, renowned theologians or from a response if Googled. He was what many call a bivocational minister. In addition to tending our farm of several hundred acres for a living, by day he drove a country school bus in Fayette Co, AL. He worked hard, most times with no aid when planting and harvesting crops. One of my favorite memories of him is seeing him sitting on our front porch in his spare time with Bible in hand. Being at school on cold winter days I would look for him and often see him sitting in the bus driver's seat while he studied and waited for the school day to end for the return trip home. Then, come Sunday, it was up and off to church where he delivered his messages with passion, often with tears, imploring his congregation to come closer to Christ, closer in unity with each other, compelling those who may be without Him to claim Him for their own safety and joy. Because of his deep compassion for others, he became known among his friends as a great encourager.

After growing up, finishing four years of duty in the U.S. Navy, I entered college with the intent to go on to Hospital Administration school, seeking a career in that field. But God had other plans. During my second semester, on the last night of a series of revival meetings at my church, from nowhere, God spoke to me in no uncertain terms. It was vivid, almost in a vision. He asked, would I be willing to lay my life down for Him? I was filled with both euphoria and horror at the thought--euphoria from such an empowering sense of His Spirit's presence and filling, horror from the scene that lay before me in my spirit--that ultimate sacrifice to such a commitment martyrs have given down through the centuries.

Now with a common bond with my father, I began to seek his counsel. I immensely enjoyed our many conversations for the next three years before his death. Just one of those principles he shared is the practice previously mentioned I have used to this day. His words were somewhat as follows: Son, you are called to preach Christ's Gospel, to lift Him up, not yourself nor any other. Only His words have the power of God unto man's salvation and spiritual life. Too many today fill the pulpits with their stories--talks, talks, talks of nothing but one story after another with little mention of His Word or the Gospel itself. It's as though its an after-thought of necessity. Those are not sermons, only a good series of stories. Refrain from story-telling! Be true to your calling. Preach the Gospel.

However, I believe this is one exception he would approve. So, I tread lightly but from a rare sense of calling to share this tribute. But in doing so, it is not so much to my dear nephew as it is to his testimony of his love for and the life of his Christ he served with great joy amidst such great affliction and pain—unwaveringly.

Continuing, you see, my father not only had a strong lasting influence upon me growing up but also on my nephew's father who came into our lives as a very young airman. My sister had caught his eye where she was working one summer with an older sister in Columbus, GA. No one knew when he entered her place of work one wonderful day, while he was going through jump school at Ft. Benning, GA, that our lives would be so greatly enriched and forever changed. With my father's blessings, soon after they married.

Little time passed before an affectionate and lasting bond grew between these two men--one older and wiser and the younger just beginning to find his way in life. I was only about seven at the time. After his tour of duty in the Air Force my sister and her new husband, Charles Mills, affectionately called, Chuck, settled in Birmingham, AL, only a short drive from our farm. The bond and talks of my father and brother-in-law increased. Quickly, my new brother-in-law grew deeply interested in his discussions of the Bible with my father—my father's favorite subject. Often he and my sister would visit on the weekends and attend church with us on Sundays before leaving for home in the late afternoons. To everyone's great joy, it wasn't long before he came to know Christ. Time quickly passed.

Over the next few years my brother-in-law rose rapidly within the ranks of his vocation, becoming vice president of a major tele-communications company. His spiritual growth eclipsed his recognized professional and soon he answered God's call for ministry. During these years together, my sister and he had two loving sons. The youngest, Jeff, was called at an early age and gave himself totally in service until God called him home when he was still a young man. His older brother, Jim, who was very successful in his chosen profession, became deeply involved in his Dad's and brother's ministries, acting as a co-laborer in and facilitator of their work together. Times were good! God was blessing, including a wonderful loving wife, Donna, two beautiful daughters, Holli and Courtni, who gave him two great men as sons-in-law, Curtis and Tom, as well as two wonderful grandchildren. One cannot forget his great love, care and support he gave to his own brother's two children, Ashley and Allen.

Without making it the story, I will only say great tragedy befell their family. All three, both brothers and their Dad, were stricken with that scourge of our time--cancer! My own sister in time was diagnosed as well. Jeff was the first it claimed. Soon after, their Dad. Jim, however, would suffer differently. His battle lasted for years. Hardly any part of his body wasn't touched by this darkness. It was during one of his times of victory with this enemy he was led to surrender himself to the ministry. This came as no surprise to anyone. Everyone knew he was touched from birth, possessing such a kind spirit and loving tender heart that God would, in all likelihood, use for His glory. He pursued his calling literally as a "man on a mission." I will not ascribe to him a sense of trying to make up for lost time, but it was as though he was in a race. God blessed, blessing his efforts in ways none will ever know the fullest extent. Only Jim, now.

Following in his Dad's footsteps, he began his formal Biblical studies at the same university, graduating at the top of his class. Please keep in mind, not all of his days were filled with great joy. Please remember, he was hounded from hell by a deadly enemy! Often times, this enemy would rouse in battle to temporarily prevent a great victory in his accomplishments. At others, it would drain his energy and mental strength when immersed in his latest focus. All the while, he fought with the faith God would overcome for His glory. And indeed He did! As the work grew in scope, so too did his enemy. It forever hounded his every turn but never in any instance stealing his victory.

As Jim grew in his calling and understanding of it, serving in many functions of the church, including Pastor, he was led to his final and triumphant effort in Christ's name. He began a ministry of an online blog where he connected with seeking souls on an international scope. This excited him more than life itself. He knew he had found his calling. He devoted himself fully to it, taking great satisfaction of the many who followed his writings and work. He, also, was thrilled to have so many who supported him in this work, not the least of which was his devoted family, especially his loving wife who faithfully stood beside him. Donna was there for his every need, sharing in his great joys but also carrying for him in his severe weaknesses in his ongoing battles.

Finally, after many years of struggles, 1000's of visits to the doctors and surgeons, operations the doctors said were life threatening themselves, God called Jim home. Many who failed to see fully what Jim had begun felt as though he was taken before he could realize its fullness. I would only say at this point, remember Paul's teaching in I Corinthians chapter 3. I will let His word Jim was so committed to speak and not mine any further. To all who read, I pray each catch Jim's spirit of commitment as God's Word enters your heart. For, indeed, this was Jim's life, his love and most of all, his legacy!

Those who have run the race and have finished their labor, their assigned part of the building's construction, as Jim did, have entered into their rest. But we who yet are awake will never forget the legacy and work of those who have gone before us. "Well done thy good and faithful servant..."

"...whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with him..."