Trust Without Borders

Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders. 
Let me walk upon the water wherever you would call me. 
(Hillsong, "Oceans")

If your church is like ours, you've sung this song innumerable times. Did you mean it? How did God answer your prayer?

He has answered ours in a very surprising way.

In March we announced to our financial supporters that we were taking a step of faith by resigning from SIM, the mission we've served with since 2002. After 15 wonderful years of ministry with SIM, we felt God moving us into full-time teaching ministry. We hoped that a full-time job would materialize for me, but even if it didn't, we knew what we were called to do: Danny would focus on keeping our household running smoothly so that I could devote my energy to teaching. Lots of people step out in faith to become missionaries; our step of faith meant no longer raising financial support. Danny moved down to part-time with SIM while we explored possibilities.

We knew what we wanted -- to stay planted in Oregon and keep teaching (preferably with a full-time salary), to keep investing in these students and these relationships. But when no doors opened in Oregon for a full-time job, we began checking job postings in other locations. We knew this year could be a roller-coaster. Most schools post academic jobs around the beginning of the fall semester to begin the following academic year. That makes for a long season of uncertainty about what's next. How much energy would we spend imagining life in different locations, waiting for an interview?

But God had a surprise in store.

The Maxwell Center, Prairie's Main Administration Bldg

At the tail end of May, when hope in Oregon had dried up and we were buckling in for the long roller-coaster ahead, a job was posted at Prairie College in Three Hills, Alberta. Their need was urgent. They wanted to have an Old Testament professor in place by July 1st. Gulp.

They say that if you're the least bit open to taking a job, you should apply for it. I remembered having a good impression of Prairie when I was in high school, looking for a college. It's a small school well off the beaten trail with a long history of sending missionaries all over the world. Crazy as it sounded, I applied.

I figured there was little chance of an American being hired. Canadians would be given priority. But applying was a matter of due diligence. The up side was that there would be no long roller coaster with this one.

The next couple of weeks were a flurry of research. When I emerged less than 2 weeks later as the top candidate for the position, we felt the weight of the decision. We wanted to go in with our eyes wide open. This would be a major transition for the entire family -- not something to be taken lightly.

We scrambled to talk with mentors, read about the school, and explore the area online. I made a long list of questions and concerns. Danny started working on a budget. And we prayed. If we said 'yes,' we would be crossing an international border, with a complicated and expensive immigration process ahead.

Danny and Carmen, Alberta Bound

In late June, Danny and I flew up to Calgary where we were greeted by a friendly colleague and a vibrant landscape of rolling green prairie with a stunning sunset. During the 75-minute drive to Three Hills, we started in on our long list of questions. We had a number of concerns about the job, and we had asked friends to pray for confirmation and clarity. Over the next 48 hours, we were surprised as our concerns melted away one by one. We loved the little town of Three Hills. The houses were nicer. The schools were stronger. The area was more beautiful. The salary was higher than we thought. My course load was less than we thought. We thoroughly enjoyed getting to know the faculty, staff, and students on campus. In the end, we wanted the job.

Imagine my surprise to discover that God had been making arrangements for this job since birth.

Scenic View not far from Three Hills

On our final morning there, I received a text from my Dad that still floors me whenever I think of it. He was born in Canada, which I knew, but none of us had ever wondered what this meant for me and my brother. I assumed that he became a US citizen when he married my mom and that his Canadian citizenship was a thing of the past by the time I was born. But it wasn't. He waited until I was four years old to become a US Citizen. Chances are high that he is still a dual citizen, though he didn't realize it then. And the clincher: it's almost certain that my brother and I are dual citizens. We were born outside Canada to a Canadian citizen. That's all it takes. In fact, my children are likely dual citizens as well, since they were born to a dual citizen prior to 2009 (when the laws about the second generation changed).

Carmen with Mark (President) and Elaine (CFO) Maxwell

This will make the process of immigrating to Canada far less complicated and expensive. We simply need to pay a fee to have our records checked and a certificate issued that proves our citizenship.

When my official job offer came, there was another surprise -- a part-time job for Danny that fits his skill set beautifully.

So we said "yes"!  

We're in the throes of packing, selling our house, writing syllabi for fall classes, ordering passports for the kids, and saying our goodbyes.

Parable Place, where Carmen's Torah class will meet

Our God is full of surprises. We didn't expect to cross an international border again, but we're eager to see what God has in store for us in Canada. As I said in my sample lecture at Prairie, God has lessons to teach us that can only be learned in a state of dislocation. No doubt we'll have challenges ahead. But we're confident that the same God who has called us out upon the waters will be right there with us.

thrust into the spotlight

10 days ago, most people in the world had never heard of SIM, even though our organization has been working around the globe for more than 120 years. The Ebola virus changed all that.

Now Anderson Cooper, Sanjay Gupta, President Obama, Donald Trump, the CDC, the WHO, and just about every other person with access to news in the developing world has heard of it.

Danny and I have been members of SIM for 12 years now, but as we settle into a new community, we're finding that lots of people we meet don't know what it is. Today's press release explains:

SIM is an international Christian mission with a staff of nearly 3,000 workers serving in more than 65 countries. In addition to medicine, SIM serves on every continent in areas of education, community development, public health and Christian witness. While SIM stood for Sudan Interior Mission when it was founded 120 years ago, it is now a global mission known as SIM. Two of SIM’s three founders died of disease within the first year of the organization’s founding. Yet SIM continued on to become one of the largest Christian medical missions in the world.

A few hours ago I watched a live press conference in Atlanta with our director, Bruce Johnson. No doubt his voice was heard on nearly every news network this evening. In the midst of a medical crisis, our SIM leaders and coworkers around the world have an unprecedented opportunity to "give an answer to anyone who asks us the reason for the hope we have" (1 Peter 3:15) in the face of suffering. Bruce did an outstanding job on this occasion, and he'll have many others in days to come. The disease threatening thousands of lives in West Africa may never have caught the attention of the West aside from this direct threat to American missionaries. Kent and Nancy are now known around the world as heroes who put themselves at risk for the sake of others in need.

I, for one, am grateful to belong to a band of people such as these. People who deliberately go where it's not safe. Who serve tirelessly where the need is greatest. Who have been doing so for ages without media attention. And who stand ready to give an answer for their hope in death's valley. Kent and Nancy (and the countless others like them who you will not see on the 10 o'clock news) remind me very much of Someone Else who gave up everything for the sake of the dying and lost His life in the process. May their tribe increase!

UPDATE 8/27/14: Last week Kent and Nancy were both released from Emory Hospital in Atlanta, virus-free! We're rejoicing in this answered prayer. Sadly, the virus continues to spread in West Africa. Pray that effective treatment will be developed and the spread will be stopped.

a peek at what God is doing . . .

As you may already know, my husband, Danny, and I have been privileged to work as missionaries with SIM for almost 11 years now. Since 2006 we've been on staff with Sports Friends, a ministry of SIM that seeks to transform lives and strengthen communities with the gospel of Jesus Christ. I just had to share this 4-minute window into at how God is using this ministry in Zambia. What a blessing to witness the transformative power of Jesus!

the story God is writing

Ten years ago today, Danny, Eliana, and I boarded a plane bound for the Philippines, officially moving from "appointee" to "field" status with SIM, an interdenominational church-planting mission. We moved from green and temperate Oregon to the hot and sticky concrete jungle of metro Manila, where we studied Tagalog and learned how to live away from our families and our own culture. The adjustment was difficult, but we came to love mangoes and jeepneys, open markets and the smiling vendors who worked there. New faces became part of our story, and we theirs, as our lives were knit together.

We had no idea that our sojourn in the Philippines would only last 2–1/2 years before SIM would recommend that we relocate to Charlotte, NC, so that Danny could serve in a more strategic role at SIM's international headquarters. He's filled an administrative position for Sports Friends (a ministry of SIM) ever since—tracking funds so that young people around the world can experience the love of Christ through a godly mentor. Charlotte, too, was far from home and family, and some of the cultural differences took us by surprise. We learned to like sweet tea and "barbeque," our neighbors' drawl and our neighbors, period. New chapters in our story included Gordon-Conwell, Good Shepherd UMC, public schools for our kids, and enriching fellowship with other SIM missionaries.

Our next move took us to the Midwest, where winters are cold and days are short, but people are equally friendly. After 18 months in Wheaton we feel right at home. Family is still far away, but we're finding community just the same. Thanks to Skype and email Danny can communicate with teammates in Ethiopia and Thailand, Nigeria and Peru from his attic office. Thanks to this blog, I can keep in touch with a wide circle of friends while I study in the library in preparation for teaching ministry. Our story has become one of anticipation, wondering what doors God will open when my schooling is over and we are free to move again.

Looking back on 10 years of ministry with SIM, our hearts are full of gratitude. We've lived in 10 different homes over these past 10 years, attended 7 different churches and 16 different schools. We've been in 11 countries and 31 states. In each of these places God has blessed us with more friends than we can possibly count whose stories have intersected with our own.

This year for Christmas we're going on a pilgrimage of sorts to see some of those dear friends. We'll get to stop in Charlotte to reconnect with neighbors, friends, and our church family—a special bonus after 18 months away. Our ultimate destination, though, is SIM's retirement community in Florida, where we'll spend Christmas with Phil and Julie Parshall.

Phil and Julie were there 10 years ago at the airport in Manila when our plan landed, waiting in the humid night air for a first glimpse of the eager young family from Oregon who had come to join their work. Their friendly welcome meant so much to us after some 30 hours of travel with a toddler in tow. The Christmas we spent together just a couple of weeks later was the first of many more shared holidays, though none of us knew it at the time. Who could have foreseen that when we left the Philippines Phil and Julie's retirement would soon follow, and they would end up choosing an apartment in Charlotte just over a mile away from us?

We had nearly 6 more happy years together in Charlotte as God continued to interweave our stories. Shortly after we left Charlotte Phil and Julie moved to Florida. This Christmas will be the 6th or 7th we have spent with them. The Parshalls (and so many others) have been part of God's provision for us in these 10 years away from home. As Jesus reassured his disciples,


"And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold, and will inherit eternal life." Matthew 19:29 NRSV

We don't know what the next 10 years will hold, or who else will walk onto the pages of our story and stay for a while. No one does. But the Author knows what he's doing, and if we let him hold the pen it will turn out beautifully in the end.

who IS here?

Some time ago I asked the question Who's Not Here? It's time to rephrase the question.

SIM, the mission agency we joined 10 years ago now, has been working in Africa for more than a century, and has since expanded into South America and Asia through mergers with other mission agencies. The original founders of SIM wanted to break ground in new territory, so they headed to the interior of Africa, then know as "the Soudan," to reach the unreached with the gospel of Jesus Christ. Since no agency was willing to send them to such a remote location, they started their own and called it "Soudan Interior Mission." Beginning in what is now known as Nigeria, these three brave men attempted to go where no (white) man had gone before. Only one of them survived the first expedition, but dozens and then hundreds of missionaries answered the call and have been following in their footsteps ever since. Today nearly 2000 SIM missionaries are serving around the world.

SIM has accomplished amazing things in its history, but nothing is more exciting (to me!) than what is happening right now. For the first time in SIM's history, we will be led by an African. Who better to help us think strategically about reaching non-Westerners than a non-Westerner? Dr. Joshua Bogunjoko has been unanimously nominated to take over as International Director of SIM next summer. He is well-educated, with years of experience in mission work and mission leadership, and he is Nigerian. But most importantly, he is a humble man of God.

We had the blessing of an hour of fellowship with Joshua last week in our home. When we asked him his "agenda" or "goal" for SIM, we were struck by his desire to listen. His wisdom and experience will serve our mission well, but he is no bulldozer. Joshua exudes humility and gratitude.

His appointment to this role is evidence of a deep transformation in the way SIM missionaries think about missions. It's not US and THEM, but WE. We're moving from PATRON to PARTNER, and from SUPERIOR to SERVANT. No doubt parochial attitudes persist in all of us, but we're watching with joy as Howie Brant's vision for SIM to send missionaries "from anywhere to anywhere" is becoming a reality. We now have Latinos serving in India, Ethiopians in Sudan, Filipinos in Mongolia . . . and Nigerians in the USA. Glory!

While we're counting noses, I have to say I was delighted this week with the first meeting of the Global Theological Education Discussion Group at Wheaton. I'm part of the leadership team for this informal group this year, where we invite knowledgeable speakers to help us think more deeply about the task of theological education around the world. In the past most of the attendees have been (white!) PhD students, but yesterday we had 6 new (non-PhD) faces around the table, and only one of them was white. Students from Indonesia, India, Korea, and Brazil enriched our conversation as we considered the place of spiritual warfare in a theological curriculum. Wheaton is making a concerted effort towards greater diversity, and it shows.

Globalization is something of a fad right now, but I must say it's one of the best fads I have ever seen. Long may it live, and transform the way we think, talk, and live.

After all, this is a small world, and we're in this together.

giants in disguise

One of our favorite parts of being missionaries is meeting godly men and women with deep faith and big hearts for what God is doing around the world. Remarkably, some of them have begun praying for us and supporting us without having met us! That’s true of three women from different time zones who (I’m convinced) are giants in the kingdom of God. They may prefer to be anonymous, so I've used pseudonyms here, but God knows who they are and their rewards are waiting in heaven!

Laverne heard about us from her son, our dear friend and mentor. She had a big heart for missions and a thriving business, left to her by her late husband. When she heard about our ministry she began supporting us right away. She was our biggest giver for several years before we finally had a chance to meet her. Her community service and hospitality matches her generosity. What a blessing to know her!

Charlene heard about us from a mutual friend in SIM. She began praying for us regularly when we lived in the Philippines, and has answered every one of our prayer letters with a hand-written letter. Recently her husband passed away and she moved to a retirement home. She took the time to tell us her new address, and it just happened to be right on my way home from Notre Dame. What a blessing to finally meet her and thank her for her faithful prayer support!

Anna Mae took her niece’s word for it that she should support us. When we first met we were struck by her gracious and cheerful spirit. Like Laverne and Charlene, Anna Mae had aged with grace and looked for ways to share joy with those around her. We’ve seen her several times, and always her selfless joy shines through.

Just after my visit with Charlene several weeks ago, I was in a minor car accident. Though I wasn’t hurt at all, our van was totaled. Our neighbors generously offered us the use of one of their cars until we found a replacement. Saturday we finally found it: the exact same van in excellent condition, one year newer and with 32,000 fewer miles. The price was much lower than we expected. Already confident that God had provided this van for us, we had no idea that he had another surprise up his sleeve. While we were out looking, he was silently arranging to help us pay for the van behind our backs. Imagine our shock when we found a check in our mailbox on Monday morning from Anna Mae. We can now pay for our van, taxes, fees, new tires and trailer hitch, with money left over!  Anna Mae simply saw a need and decided to meet it.

The giants in God’s kingdom are not who we might expect. They don’t necessarily live in major cities, hold positions of power, have a large following, or command attention. Some of them live quiet lives of faithfulness in small town America, praying fervently, giving generously, and letting the joy of the Lord splash on everyone they meet. Their noiseless acts of service are changing the world, one radiant smile at a time.

Spiritual Life of Missionaries: Lessons Learned from the Field

If you're new to my blog, then you might not know that Danny and I have been missionaries with SIM for the past 10 years. I was recently asked to share with undergraduate students at Wheaton on the topic of spiritual formation for missionaries. I thought that perhaps some of you would appreciate hearing our story as well. Living in the Philippines was very difficult for us spiritually, not so much because of Filipino language, culture, or climate, though learning to live there had its challenges. The biggest challenges for us were internal, related to our expectations and identity, and missional, related to our roles and opportunities for service. I hope that our story is helpful to you in some way!
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Danny and I were model candidates for missions. We were both Bible college graduates with supportive families and a strong sending church. We had experience in short-term missions and in church ministry. We were considered “strong Christians” by all who knew us. We passed our psychological and other evaluations with flying colors. We set a new record in SIM: In less than 12 months we had completed all of SIM’s pre-field training requirements, sold or stored all of our worldly goods, raised all of our support, and were on a plane bound for the Philippines. Our vision was crystal clear: we were going to see a reproducing church planted among a minority ethnic group in the Philippines.  Danny would serve our SIM team by handling the administrative tasks that bogged them down. I would engage in outreach and eventually Bible teaching and discipleship. We planned to stay a really long time.

But then we landed in Manila and reality hit. Learning Tagalog would not be easy. Sweating all the time was not fun. Our team was spread out across a sprawling metropolis with some of the worst traffic jams in the world. We were isolated, lonely, and discouraged. But worst of all, after a grueling year of language study, it was no longer clear to us how we could even help. Danny’s administrative tasks only took him a few hours per month. Our team was too small to need a full-time administrator, and SIM was actively considering whether any more westerners should even be sent to the Philippines. I tried no less than 7 different ministries inside the local neighborhood where our target people group lived. Every one of them was a flop.

We thought we were going to the Philippines use our gifts to build God’s kingdom. But we were frustrated at every turn. Danny is most fully alive when he is in some kind of helping role -- working behind the scenes to make things happen (which is why I’m here speaking while he is shuttling our kids between school and after-school activities) -- but Filipinos wouldn’t let him set up chairs or clean up after an event. Such tasks are too menial for a white man. And our western teammates didn’t actually need his help. It was very debilitating for him. I, on the other hand, had gone to teach, but for the first time in my life I sensed very strongly that God was asking me to keep my mouth shut. It was time to learn. As time dragged on my confidence gradually drained away. I began to doubt if I had anything worth saying.

I remember very distinctly one day walking in the tropical heat down a crowded street to the open market to do my shopping. I looked at the street vendors lining the sidewalk … watched them arranging their goods. I knew they would be lucky to make 50 pesos of profit in a day, and that they had left their babies home in the care of older siblings, some only 5 or 6 years old. At any moment the police could show up and clear the place out. Sidewalk vending was illegal. But it was the only way they could find to survive. Suddenly I felt very empty. What did I have to offer that these people actually needed? My sophisticated methods of Bible study were useless to them. Their modes of thinking and learning were almost entirely oral. Their focus was on survival. What’s more, they were already cheerful, generous, selfless. When I looked deep inside myself, I saw no great reserves of those qualities, or any others that would give evidence of a spirit-empowered life -- joy, faith, peace, gentleness, self-control. Spiritually-speaking I was just about bankrupt.

About a year after we arrived in the Philippines, I wrote this poem in my journal and later posted it on my (old) blog. It will give you a window on my heart in that very dry and difficult season.

empty

before I journeyed here
my heart was full
  ideas
    skills
      techniques
        strategies
now I sojourn
far from home
emptied of all I once knew
        nameless
      voiceless
    useless?
afraid that before I find
my voice in this culture
I will have nothing left to say
what was profound and meaningful before
now seems
        out-of-touch
      foreign
    irrelevant
  unneeded
so, Lord, I sit here
empty
like the jars at Cana lacking wine
thirsty for You to fill me again
with your living water
so I can pour
into the lives You've gathered
around me

Come, Lord Jesus,
do your miracle in me.

God’s answer to my prayer was not what I expected. There was no instant miracle. I hoped for overflowing joy or successful ministry opportunities or at least peace that we were on the right track. He gave us none of these. But he did give us a gift that we learned to treasure – his gift was longing. Danny and I became desperate for God. We were constantly and painfully aware of our own weaknesses, our inabilities, our absolute need for Him. We lived every day for months on end with an ache in our souls that would not go away. A craving for God to do something. A thirst for his presence. And we waited. We waited beyond what we thought we could bear and then waited some more.

During that lonely season, authors—dead ones, even—became some of my most trusted spiritual guides. Henri Nouwen, Larry Crabb, Lettie Cowman.

Henri Nouwen taught me (in his books Wounded Healer and Reaching Out) that ministers of the gospel must be unafraid to venture into the depths of their own soul so that they can lead others to wholeness in a fragmented world. Being broken is not the end of ministry, it is the surest beginning. I was certainly broken, and I did not like what I saw in my own soul. But Nouwen said this was as it should be.

Larry Crabb’s book Shattered Dreams also ministered to me deeply. In it he wrestles with the same questions we were asking. He wonders out loud why God allows suffering: "He could do something. Yet He does nothing, at least not what we ask Him to do. Why? To deepen our desire for His Presence, to strengthen our passion to pursue Him, to help us see how preoccupied we are with filling our God-shaped souls with something less than God." (121)

Crabb says, "When God seems most absent from us, He is doing His most important work in us." (157) I clung to the hope that somehow God was using our isolation and struggle to do something deep in us.

Lettie Cowman’s Streams in the Desert was also a source of hope. I learned that some of God’s most precious gifts can only come to us wrapped in suffering. There is simply no other way to receive them. God does not delight in our pain, but he delights in the deep work that he is able to do in us in the midst of that pain. "There are blessings we can never have unless we are ready to pay the price of pain. There is no way to reach them save through suffering." (Sept 19, quoting Dr. Miller)

My season of silence did not end until we came home from the Philippines. It was the longest two and a half years of our lives. Eventually SIM recommended that we change fields and serve where Danny’s skills were more critically needed. We returned to the states and moved to Charlotte, NC where Danny began working for a new ministry of SIM based out of the International office. The six years we spent there were some of our richest and happiest years. Everything seemed to go our way. Our kids had great schools, we found a great church, lived in a great house in a great neighborhood with great neighbors. I got to go to seminary, which I absolutely loved. Danny’s job with SIM was a perfect fit for his personality and gifting. After six years in Charlotte God opened the door for me to continue my education here at Wheaton. I’m working on a PhD in Old Testament under Dr. Block. Once again our situation is totally ideal – house, schools, jobs, everything. Danny has been able to continue serving in his role with SIM remotely, and this year we’re approaching our 10-year anniversary of service with SIM.

We are of course relieved to have moved out of a dry and difficult season of life and ministry. But happiness has its drawbacks. I have carried with me a deep sense of appreciation for the spiritual desert that we lived in for 2 years in the Philippines. I met God in a powerful way, ironically, through his “absence.” I discovered new things about myself, my own limitations, and my desperate need for the Savior. That gift never comes through success and victory and ease. It only comes wrapped in suffering. And it has changed me, I hope, forever.

who's not here?

It's on my mind almost any time I walk into church, or a classroom or a conference like ETS.  I hadn't put it into words, though, until just a few days ago.  Ken Baker asked this question in his thought-provoking session on cultural diversity in missions at ETS.  Who's not here?

I've already mentioned the fact that ETS is dominated by white men.  Their presence is not a bad thing, but the list of who's not here is rather long.  Are there vibes or assumptions or invisible walls keeping others away?  There are, of course, many evangelicals who believe that Bible teaching is a role reserved for men.  That accounts for the lack of women.  But why not black men? asian men? latino men?  Is the notion of an academic society too thoroughly western?  Perhaps.

I was delighted to find in my intital seminary classes that there was no majority.  Race, gender, age, denominational background, economic class ... our classrooms were a total mix.  Learning is rich in such an environment.  (It's hard for a Reformed student to build a straw Arminian and knock it down in class when he's sitting beside one!)  I have found, however, that this does not hold true for upper level classes (Hebrew Exegesis, for example).  Things are looking white, white, white (and in some classes male, male, male).  It's not as though I wish there were fewer white men in my classes, it's just that my list of who's not here grows longer.  And why does it matter?  Because if we only listen to ourselves our theology will be lopsided, no matter how hard we try to keep our eyes fully open to Scripture.  We need each other - brothers and sisters of other races and backgrounds - to help us understand the full message of Christ for the church.

According to Rev 7:9, we will finally be able to stop asking this question around the throne of God.  Then, finally, all nations will be represented.  But on this side of eternity, why do we keep to our own kind?  Ken suspects that we carry around in our hearts the belief that people who are not like us don't have anything to offer that we need.  Ouch.  So look around and ask yourself, who's not here?  Because what - or who - you don't know can hurt you.

a giant heart ... promoted to glory

Gil Woo was a man with a heart, a BIG heart.  We met him and his wife Vivian on our first day visiting what was then known as Northridge Community Church in Milwaukie, Oregon.  They gave us such a warm welcome!  He was so interested in getting to know us, and we bonded right away.  It was only at the end of the conversation that we learned it was their first Sunday there, too!  And that's the kind of guy Gil was.  He had a way of caring that just poured out of him without stopping.  I never knew him to stop and nurse his own wounds.  He was as others-centered as a person can be.

Gil and Vivian have supported us generously since we first became missionaries.  Month after month, faithfully investing in God's work in and through us.  But we never were a "project" to them, just the dearest of friends.  Each time we've traveled back to Portland to see family, friends, and supporters to report on the work that God has been doing through SIM they have graciously opened their home to us and dozens of others who wanted to see us.  Desserts, coffee, gifts for the kids, and the warmest of fellowship were always present in abundance.

Gil gave, and gave, and gave some more.  We were not surprised to learn that even from his hospital bed, without the ability to speak, he wrote messages to ensure that his family and employees were cared for in his absence and knew that they were loved.  No thought for himself.  And today he was promoted to glory.

We will miss you, Gil.  And the tears have flowed.  But we know that you are up there cheering us on like you always have, finding new ways to give of yourself to those you love.  I wonder, how is the View from the Ridge?