Very early this morning I lost a mentor, a spiritual father, an encourager, and a friend.
His name is John Nichols…he fought the fight and like Paul…he won.  Now he’s home.
He lived redemptively.

When I say I don’t know many men like John Nichols…I mean that I don’t personally know three more.
He was a constant declaration of God’s strength…even when he was old and gray…

And even when I am old and gray, O God, do not forsake me,
Until I declare Your strength to this generation, Your power to all who are to come.
Psalm 71:18 [show]Psalm 71:18 [18]So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation, your power to all those to come.
(NASB95)

John Nichols did that.
He was a spiritual father in a time when it seems there are few… He spoke words of forceful correction to me…full of grace and truth…grace that pressed back against the self imposed limitations of reaction, unprincipled passion, and youthful impetuousness…and  he declared truth that “revealed” not only my weaknesses…but also potential in me that he saw.

He was Pentecostal …  He believed that you were never too old to dream…and never too young to see!  And he would include and empower anyone who would dare to do either.

He was not threatened by new ideas…nor the fear of releasing a success of the past that may stand in the way of a present potential.

He cultivated an uncertainty.  My uncertainty.   I think he cultivated (very much on purpose) my inability to resolve and be certain whether or not my connection to him was born of the shared passion of pastoral calling that was a generation apart…or whether it was the common ground of two Marines from a different time.  Maybe it was both.  (He certainly had no problem using terms and language from both of those worlds!)  He assured me there was…and always will be things worth fighting for.  He convinced me that there were more who were willing to fight if someone would just start the fight.

Along that same line of thought…last year we sat on the front porch of my house in rocking chairs.  He had listened to me run my mouth for a long time…and then it was his turn.  He told me if I felt that I was called to start the fight, then I should expect scars.  But he told me that the danger of that was the temptation to begin to define life by the scars…and when the scars become our primary point of reference we will lose sight of why we fought in the first place…that we will lose sight of the joy of the victory…and we would lose perspective to understand with clarity where the next fight will be.

He was a collision of values that could be seen in his eyes.  His were eyes readily filled with tears over the broken-ness of the world and the plight of the disenfranchised…and yet the same eyes  would, in an instant be filled with fire and anger should he discover any semblance of apathetic complacency on the part of those who alone held the power to change those circumstances…namely, the church of Jesus Christ.

One of the last things he said to me was that he was not afraid of death.  For him death would be the final victory over the last fight.  He said that he had recently heard a statement that Charles Conn had made regarding a life lived.  I don’t know if it was paraphrased on his part but he said it this way:  “When I leave this world I don’t want to leave anything on the table.”   He said that if he had any fear it would be that.  He said he did not want to leave as a legacy any unused stuff… unused love, unused words of affirmation, unused influence, unused mercy, unused encouragement or unused dreams.  His eyes had that slightly-filled-with-tears look that I had seen many times.  We paused and then I responded back to him and told him I had a favorite, albeit slightly modified line from the movie, “The Gladiator.”  I said, “Regardless of cancer…you will most certainly die.  But not today.”  He laughed, pumped his fist in the air and said, “Yeah!  I like that!”

Oh yeah…  He still held hands with Norene…all the time.  I loved that.  The “wife of his youth,” as the Bible says…married for a hundred years I think.  They still had “the look” in their eyes.  You know, when it comes to the love he had for her…he left nothing behind.  There was nothing left unused.

He left nothing behind……for a lot of people.  I want to try and do the same.