WHEN THINGS ARE MISSING

Mark Jennings wasn't a close friend -- but he was a friend.

He was the type of guy you enjoyed talking to. He was a Christian and it showed.

Sometime back our church had a telephone campaign where for a four week period we called families in our area and invited them to church on a special Sunday.

Aside from the callers we asked some members to come one night a week and pray for those who were calling.

Mark came not for one night a week but every night and he did so for all four weeks of the campaign, getting there early and not leaving until the last phone call was finished.

Mark Jennings was a big man -- weighing about 500 pounds -- and it was hard for him to get around so he was limited in what he could do.

On Wednesday nights Mark would park just outside the kitchen door at church and come in through the patio door. He had to stop in the middle of the kitchen to catch his breath enough to walk out into the dining room.

We used this time to talk -- about anything and everything -- sometimes about the wood carvings he made and how he was trying to sell some of them on eBay. And sometimes we simply talked about the Men's Breakfast or some other event that was upcoming at church.

This past Wednesday night Mark did not show up.

Thanksgiving night he died from a massive heart attack in his father's home and was buried this past Tuesday in Lawton OK.

For a moment I missed Mark, then stopped and realized where he was.

He certainly wasn't missing me.

I keep hearing the rumor that the chicken fried steak they serve in heaven contains 0 calories, 0 cholesterol and o triglycirides.

And I'll bet Mark ate a platter full of them.