This past week, I had the sacred responsibility of leading a memorial service for a dear saint from a church I once pastored. Before he passed, he made a simple request: that I would lead his memorial service. I received that request as a deep pastoral trust.

He lived 93 years. He loved the Lord, the church, and God’s mission in the world. And since my appointment as a Global Theological Educator with International Ministries, he quietly supported my ministry as a monthly partner—never seeking recognition, never drawing attention to himself.

As I prepared the message for his memorial, one verse kept returning to me:

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” (Psalm 116:15)

That word precious shaped everything I wanted to say—because his life was not loud or showy, but it was deeply faithful.

In the sermon, I spoke about how his faith was visible in ordinary moments. I remembered visiting his home when his wife was still alive. I had told him ahead of time that I would bring a meal so that we could sit around the table together. That mattered to him. Faith, for him, was something lived around tables—shared, unhurried, and hospitable.

I also shared a story from my South African background. In my culture, when God blesses someone with a home, a business, or even a vehicle, it is often prayed over and dedicated to the Lord. One Sunday after worship, that sermon on stewardship clearly stayed with him. He approached me and asked if I would pray for his new vehicle.

So, there we were—sitting inside his car—dedicating it to the Lord. Every mile, every journey, every ordinary errand offered back to God. He never forgot that moment. In fact, he would often remind me of it, not because it was dramatic, but because it captured something he deeply believed: everything we receive is a gift from God.

That led into the second movement of the sermon—how he reflected God’s love through encouragement. He was genuinely interested in others, especially in hearing how faith was lived out beyond his own context. He loved listening to stories from South Africa and was always curious about the church’s life in other parts of the world.

When I later shared with him that I was taking a step of faith to serve globally with International Ministries, he did not hesitate. He simply committed to supporting the work. For him, generosity was not a transaction—it was participation in God’s mission.

I even shared a lighter story during the service—one that many smiled at. He knew I had a fear of dogs, and every time I visited his home, my first question was always the same: “Is the dog upstairs?” One day, before the dog could be secured, I heard it racing down the stairs, with his son calling out that the dog was coming. I was outside in moments, standing behind the glass door, face to face with the dog on the other side. He found the whole episode endlessly amusing—and so did the congregation. It was a reminder that ministry is not just about seriousness, but about shared humanity, grace, and laughter.

The final movement of the sermon centered on faithfulness to the end. I read Paul’s words:

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4:7)

That verse felt like a fitting summary of his life. He endured. He remained rooted. He trusted God not just in the active years, but in the quieter seasons as well.

As I stood there preaching, I was reminded once again that faithfulness rarely draws attention—but it leaves a legacy.

With his passing, his monthly support of this ministry has come to an end. I share this gently, because his life itself is the invitation. If you have ever wondered whether consistent, unseen generosity truly matters, his story quietly answers that question.

If you feel led to step into that space—or to invite someone else to do so—I would be deeply grateful. The work continues, sustained by lives marked by the same steady faithfulness he embodied.

I give thanks to God for a life well lived, a race well run, and a servant now at rest.

“Well done, good and faithful servant.”

If you feel led, you’re invited to prayerfully consider becoming a monthly partner in this ministry, helping carry forward the quiet, faithful support that has now come to an end. Click this link 

Click this link to read more about how God is using me.