Natalie Grant | KBC Missions Offices

I have told several friends this week that I came away with something more this past Sunday. I had the opportunity to meet Natalie between services in our pastoral office suite. Just as I was about to shake her hand, my youngest daughter Gina, who is serving in Malaysia, called me. When I saw Gina’s number on my phone, I asked Natalie if she would take a moment to say hello. Of course, she was more than gracious and talked with Gina via Skype video on my phone. As you can imagine, Gina was beside herself with excitement. Later in the morning, Natalie stopped by our missions ministry office and took a moment to record another video greeting to Gina. She encouraged Gina to keep living her dream of serving God among the nations. When Gina received the video she replied with a text saying, “You’re the best Dad in the world!”

Well, I don’t know if I’m the best Dad in the world but I do know this — Natalie Grant is a kind person. She is as down-to-earth and friendly as anyone you’d expect to meet in your own hometown. And, she understood the importance of taking a brief moment to do something nice for a student living far from home and missing her family. Seeing that side of Natalie off stage made seeing her on stage even better for me. As much as I have enjoyed her music over the years, I will enjoy it even more because of her kindness to my daughter. We can all do what Natalie did every day if we will take a moment to seize even the briefest opportunities to do something kind or to offer encouragement to others. It’s those little things that we do behind the scenes that can make a big difference in the lives of others. Thanks for your kindness to my daughter, Natalie.

One of the things I enjoy most is listening to stories. We all have stories — those narratives that define and give context to our lives, that give the listener clues about our existence, frustrations, hopes, and aspirations. I’m the guy who will look at the pictures in your home and ask you to share a story about a particular one. Last month I visited with Craig and listened to more of his stories. I am thankful for that opportunity because I learned a little more about Craig and the experiences that shaped him from his childhood all the way through his military career. Among other things, I asked him to tell me the story behind the photo of him shaking hands with President Bush with Air Force One in the background. That story prompted a discussion about God’s plans and purposes among the nations, something that Craig and I often talked about on the occasions when we were able to see each other. Over the years I was privileged to hear many of Craig’s fascinating stories.

Craig was also interested in the stories of other people. He cared deeply about the men and women under his command in the Navy and also those with whom he worked in these last years of his life. Because Craig was interested in people he was also interested in listening to their stories — stories about their families as well as about their struggles, challenges, dreams, and aspirations. The insight he gleaned from listening to those stories made him a more compassionate individual who understood the value of sharing a little bit of balm or a little bit of honey with others. Balm to heal and honey to encourage.

In medias res is a Latin literary expression that means “in the middle of a story.” When you think about it, we all die in medias res — in the middle of a story, of many stories. A couple of days ago I read the last anniversary card that Craig had given to Cindie. In that card, he had written a beautiful inscription in which he expressed his gratitude for the time he had been privileged to share with Cindie. Craig’s heartfelt inscription was a summary of his love story with Cindie, what he described as the best years of his life. Craig was never unrealistic about the fact that he was going to die in the middle of his love story. In the final weeks of life every day was like a year and every hour like a day to Craig and Cindie. They cherished every moment. And as his body grew progressively weaker, Craig’s love and concern for Cindie’s welfare grew increasingly stronger. With the help of family and friends, Craig arranged for some things to be done around the house that he felt would make things a little easier for Cindie after his death. These practical expressions of his concern were among the final entries in Craig’s love story. And, just as he had hoped, Cindie was at his bedside when he drew his final breath. But although Craig died in the middle of a story, of many stories, his death does not mark the end of his story.

Knowing that something hard or difficult is going to happen, that it’s imminent, does not necessarily make it easier to accept when it finally does happen. We have known for months that Craig was in the fight of his life against cancer, and now that he is gone we feel a measure of relief that he is no longer suffering but a great deal of sadness that we will never again see him on this side of heaven. Over the past year we have done more than watch Craig battle cancer, we have been inspired by him. As the cancer advanced and gained ground, it ultimately fell short of breaching the citadel of Craig’s faith. Craig refused to surrender hope or to allow it to be taken captive by despair. Every day of the battle, the flag of Craig’s faith was still there, defiantly flapping in the breeze above the fray. Craig did not lose his battle against cancer because cancer never captured the flag. Cancer may have destroyed his health but it unwittingly strengthened his faith and revealed the depth of his commitment to Christ. This too is a part of Craig’s story and legacy of faith.

When writing to the church at Corinth, the Apostle Paul reminded them, “You yourselves are our letters of recommendation … written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts” (2 Cor. 3:2-3). I am among those who are a part of Craig’s story. Some of those who knew Craig have a few sentences and others a few chapters written on the tablets of their hearts as a result of their association with him. I believe that I am a better person for having known him. One day every one of us will die in medias res. When that day comes may it not mark the end of our stories, but like Craig, may we live in such a way that even our dust will continue to praise God and tell the world of His faithfulness (Ps. 30:9). And may we also leave a narrative of love and concern written on the hearts of others that will continue to be read and that will inspire others for years after we die. I will miss Craig and our conversations, but I am thankful that his story will continue to encourage and inspire those who hear it.

I marveled at how Craig could stand the intense pain he suffered in the final weeks of his life. I was even more surprised when he insisted that his pain medication be regulated so that he could still feel a bit of pain. He did not want to be entirely numbed or sedated. Craig said that he still wanted to feel a little bit of pain because even a slender thread of pain kept him tethered to what it feels like to be alive and aware of your surroundings. Perhaps it was a combination of his strong faith and his military training, but Craig continued to bear as much of the responsibility for his own care as he could until the very end when he was in and out of consciousness. I think that this was also his way of easing the burden of care on Cindie, his wife. He understood how hard she was working to manage the household and everything associated with his care. Watching how Craig faced death gave new meaning to “Rock” — the nickname given to him by the men in his Bible study group.

For those of us who knew him, Craig was indeed a rock-solid man. His faith in Christ was unwavering, even throughout the years he served in the military and flew search and rescue missions in Vietnam. And his commitment to his family was rock-solid as well. Craig was a source of godly counsel and sound advice shaped by a lifetime of having developed a strong Biblical worldview. And it was his Biblical worldview that ultimately prepared him to face death with confidence. In the past months Craig often quoted 2 Corinthians 5:8, “We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.” Craig faced death with the confident assurance that it would not be the end but instead an entrance into the very presence of the Lord whom he loved and had served for a lifetime. Craig was privileged to meet lots of important and renowned leaders throughout his military career, but all of this pales by comparison to what Craig experienced the moment he took his final breath — meeting Jesus face to face.

This morning, as I reflected on Craig’s life as a military man, I thought about the centurion who approached Jesus in Capernaum. This military man asked Jesus to heal his servant who was lying paralyzed at home. When Jesus agreed to go to the man’s home to heal his servant, the centurion told Jesus that he was not worthy to have Him come under his roof but believed that Jesus could heal his servant by merely speaking a word. That exchange prompted Jesus to say, ”Truly, I tell you, with no one in Israel have I found such faith” (Matt. 8:10). I think it’s interesting that the guy who expressed the kind of faith that got the attention of Jesus was a military man who understood what it is like to be in authority and under authority. Maybe Jesus will introduce Craig to that centurion in heaven and these two military men who demonstrated great faith will reflect on how beautiful it was to trust in Jesus. We will miss Craig and everything that his presence meant to our family but know that we will see him again. We grieve with hope. Fair winds and following seas, Captain Reynolds.

Cindie and Cheryl at age 16.

My wife Cheryl and her sister Cindie are eight months apart. They were providentially brought together under one roof to be raised by a loving couple who could not have children of their own. Cindie was adopted first, and then eight months later when Cheryl was born, she was adopted into the same family. Their adoptive parents, Gene and Frances Crane, provided a wonderful Christian home for these girls. Cindie and Cheryl have always believed that God brought them together because it was His special plan for them to be sisters and to have Gene and Frances as their parents. God gave them to Gene and Frances — but He also gave them to each another. As sisters, they have shared a lifetime of experiences from childhood to their respective marriages to having kids of their own in the same hospital where they were born and given up for adoption. They share a bond with and a love for one another that is rock solid — one that has become even stronger as they have cared for Cindie’s husband Craig in the final days of his life.

I have called Cheryl a few times from India to get updates on Craig. Every time I have called, Cheryl has broken down and wept. She has wept because of Craig’s intense suffering and obvious decline. And she has wept for her sister whom she loves. She knows that she must return home and then back to work this week but doesn’t want to leave Cindie’s side. As I have prayed for Craig and also for Cindie and Cheryl, I have been especially thankful that Cheryl has had the opportunity to be by Cindie’s side to help care for Craig through the holidays. Sisters were made for times like this. And as I have reflected on the more than thirty-years that I have known Cheryl and Cindie, I am impressed by how they have loved and respected and supported each other throughout those years. I have never known them to be unkind to one another or to fight or argue. I always know when Cindie calls because Cheryl lights up. I can hear the delight in her voice — the kind of genuine joy that you can’t manufacture but that is the product of a lifetime of gratitude for what God did when He brought them together as sisters. Cindie and Cheryl have always treated each other as sisters should — with mutual love, admiration, and respect.

The Psalmist wrote, “Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!” (Ps. 133:1) — and indeed God is also pleased when sisters dwell in unity! Over the past thirty-three years of ministry I have learned that tough times do not always bring siblings together. And I have also learned that siblings who are together are better equipped to face the toughest of times. Watching and listening to Cheryl and Cindie through these difficult days of Craig’s imminent death has reminded me of how blessed Craig and I are to be the husbands of these remarkable sisters. Although the days ahead will be difficult as Craig takes his final breaths, I know that Cindie will be able to take another breath and another step because of the love and support of her family and of her sister who loves her as a sister should.

Tamales wrapped in banana leaves.

Yesterday, our youngest daughter Gina, who is currently living in Malaysia, hosted her own tamalada. Using a combination of Skype and email with Cheryl, Gina made a list of all of the ingredients she would need. She and Cheryl talked about how long to cook the meat, how to prepare the masa, and all of the other intricacies of tamale making. Gina then invited friends from the nations over to her home to make tamales. When we spoke via Skype, Gina told me that she and her friends had the best time together. That makes me happy because that is what a tamalada is supposed to do. Gina also said that the most challenging thing was substituting banana leaves for corn husks, but they managed to make the leaves work and cooked several dozen tamales. The tasty treats are in the freezer and will be served this week at a Christmas party for students. How cool to think that many international students will get to taste a tamale for the first time and learn a little about another culture as they listen to the Christmas story.

Friends from Nigeria and China.

Food can bring people together and open doors to share the story about Jesus. In Acts 10, Peter had a vision in which God basically nullified the Jewish dietary laws and prepared Peter to meet a Gentile named Cornelius. By removing the obstacle created by dietary laws, God opened the door for Jews and Gentiles to have fellowship around the same table. That’s a good thing and a good starting place for sharing the gospel. Christmas is a great time to connect with others around the table or by taking a plate of cookies to co-workers or neighbors. It’s also a great time for keeping the traditions that keep us connected to others. There are plenty of things in our world that keep us distanced from others. I believe that the world would be better served by the goodwill and fellowship generated by a few more tamaladas.

My brother-in-law Craig Reynolds knows that death is very likely weeks away. Over the past year his battle against stage four cancer has intensified. Craig knows firsthand what cancer can do. He has lost weight, he must be nourished through a feeding tube, he is now at the chronic pain stage, and he is growing progressively weaker. However, although this dread disease has exacted a heavy physical toll from Craig, cancer has not been able to penetrate the stronghold of faith in his heart — the flag is still flying — nor has it diminished his determination to continue telling others about the gift of salvation that God offers through Jesus Christ. Knowing that his days are numbered, Craig has been working on a video project — something that will enable him to share the hope that is found only in Christ with friends, co-workers, and family after his death. He doesn’t have to do this. He wants to do this. Like the Apostle Paul (Rom. 1:14), Craig understands that those of us who know Christ are indebted to those who do not know Him — in other words, we owe Christ to all who do not know Christ. So, even death will not keep Craig from telling his story.

Just like Craig, we will all face death one day. Death may come for us slowly or it may take us without warning. But, regardless of how it comes, even death cannot rob us of the opportunity to be an influence for Christ. I have often written about the complaint of David in the 30th Psalm: “What will you gain if I die, if I sink down into the grave? Can my dust praise you from the grave? Can it tell the world of your faithfulness?”  (30:9). God alone can answer the first question. However, those who remain behind after the death of a loved one can answer the other questions. The fact of the matter is that our dust will speak for us after we die. In addition to his video project, Craig has intentionally written a good script for his dust, one day at a time. Those who will one day reflect on his life will have to acknowledge that he was a man who loved God deeply and never wavered in his faith, even when battling cancer. Job once said, “Though He slay me, I will hope in Him” (Job 13:15a). Job understood that God has a bigger purpose that is not always clear to us, a purpose that we may not understand until we see Him face to face. That’s the kind of unwavering faith that will continue to tell the world of God’s faithfulness — the kind of faith that even cancer cannot diminish. And, that’s the kind of faith I see in Craig.

Craig in helicopter.

My brother-in-law, Craig Reynolds, has stage four cancer and is facing imminent death. Over the past few months Craig has lost almost half his body weight but none of his spirit and certainly none of his faith. Craig came into our lives when he was serving as the Commanding Officer of the Naval Air Station in Corpus Christi, Texas and later married Cheryl’s sister Cindie. As a Navy aviator, facing death is nothing new to Craig. He served three deployments in Vietnam between 1967 and 1974. Craig piloted helicopters into harm’s way to rescue downed pilots and wounded soldiers and then transport them either back to a ship or to the hospital in Da Nang. In the early days of the Vietnam war, helicopter pilots like Craig sat on boiler plate to protect themselves from gunfire from below. Whether on actual rescue missions or performing training runs, the possibility of death was ever-present. “The Navy,” said Craig, “trained us well so that we could calmly deal with any dangerous situation or life-threatening emergency.” But it was more than his Navy training that helped Craig through three deployments in Vietnam — it was his faith in Christ that kept him steady and grounded.

Craig meeting Pope John Paul II.

One of the things that I have always admired about Craig is his integrity and his unwillingness to compromise his faith. The military community can be a tough place for Christ-followers. But Craig never allowed the world to press him into its mold. I have never heard him use foul language and those who served with him can speak to how Craig consistently lived out his faith. In 1986, while serving as the Executive Officer of the USS Inchon, Craig received notice that he and two other officers had been invited to the Vatican to meet Pope John Paul II. Craig, who is not a Catholic, asked why he had been invited. The reply was that his superior officers had recommended him because of his reputation as a strong follower of Christ. Craig told me that when they attended the Mass officiated by the Pope, the Pope kept staring at him. After the Mass, the Pope approached him first and asked him if he was related to the Kennedy family. Craig told him that they had attended the same school but that he was not related. Later, he and the Pope talked about their faith in Christ. The Pope shared about how he used to sneak out of the Vatican in plain clothes in his old Ford Pinto to be among the people. But, he was no longer allowed to do that after the assassination attempt on his life. Craig remarked that Pope John Paul II was one of the finest individuals that he had ever met.

Craig and Cindie Reynolds

Craig’s faith sustained him through three deployments in Vietnam and earned him the respect of others in the military. Today, his faith in Christ is nothing short of inspiring to me as he faces the toughest battle of his life. When my wife Cheryl and I walked into his room on Friday evening, he was reading the gospels. When he turned and saw us he smiled, placed his New Testament on the table in front of him, and greeted us warmly. “I was just reading the Gospels,” he said. “Jesus sure had some tough things to say that require us to do more than sit on the sideline. We must make a commitment to follow Him no matter what.” Craig has followed Christ through years of dangerous military missions and throughout his military career. But, more importantly, Christ has followed Craig through every adventure, keeping watch over him, and now walks beside Craig in the valley of the shadow of death. Craig understands what it means when the Bible says that He will never leave us nor forsake us (Heb. 13:5). As a Christ-follower, Craig is facing death with confidence. “God can heal me if He chooses,” Craig said from his bed, “but regardless, I am in a win-win situation.” He’s right. The Apostle Paul said, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21). There is no better way to face death than with Christ.

"Tamalada" | Painted by Carmen Lomas Garza

Whenever I hear the word “tradition” I can’t help but think of Tevye, the milkman in Fiddler on the Roof whose struggle to maintain his Jewish traditions was made even more challenging by the choices of his three older daughters. However, in the month of December, the word “tradition” is all about La Tamalada or a tamale-making party. One of my very favorite memories of growing up in South Texas is of the Tamaladas that my beautiful mother would host in our home. The annual Tamalada was a big family and social event when our home was filled with extended family and friends who gathered to make tamales, empanadas, pan de polvo, and other Christmas goodies. It was a great time of the year to be a kid in our home because the house was filled with people we loved, with music, laughter and conversation, and the opportunity to sample lots of food.

This year's first batch of tamales.

Tamales have been around for a long time. Bernardino de Sahagún, a Franciscan friar and ethnographer who came to New Spain (Mexico) in 1529, documented that the Aztecs served tamales to the Spaniards in the mid-1500s. We have traced our ancestry on my Dad’s side of the family to the 16th century, so perhaps our ancestors were among those who sampled Aztec tamales. The word tamale is derived from the word tamalii from the Nahuatl language spoken by the Aztecs. The word means “wrapped food.” However, the Aztecs were not the only people to enjoy tamales. Tamales were also a favorite food of the Mayans in Central America and the Inca in Peru. Warriors from all of these peoples survived on tamales because it was a portable food.

Putting tamales into the steam pot.

My mother taught my wife Cheryl how to make tamales. Making tamales is a time-consuming, labor intensive, messy, and creative process but one that is worth the effort when that first batch of tamales is ready to be sampled. Cheryl started this year’s tamale-making preparations a couple of days ago. I especially enjoy sampling the various fillings and making sure that the masa has the perfect taste. Today, Cheryl hosted a small Tamalada in our home. It takes lots of hands to soak, dry, and sort the corn husks, to prepare and spread the masa on each husk, and then to add the filling, tie and bundle each tamal (singular) and then finally steam all of the tamales. Because the process is so labor intensive, families that keep the Tamalada tradition make as many tamales as possible. And then, the best part — eating and sharing tamales at Christmas.

This will be our third Christmas since my beautiful Mom passed away. Although we all still miss her so much, I am comforted by some really great memories at this time of the year. Cheryl’s little Tamalada transported me back to a simpler and wonderful time in my life when Mom unwittingly created memories that have lasted a lifetime — memories of a happy home filled with family and friends at Christmastime. Traditions are not all bad, especially those that keep us connected and grounded to faith and family. I hope that you will consider your Christmas traditions and help create memories that will bless and comfort your family and friends for years to come.

My wife Cheryl and her sister Cindy were also blessed with a great childhood. Cindy and Cheryl were both adopted within eight months of each other by a loving couple who gave them a wonderful home they otherwise might not have had. Cheryl’s extended family is much larger than mine so there were always lots of arms to embrace her and Cindy at family gatherings. These baby girls were raised in a home where they enjoyed a lifetime of love expressed not only on special holidays but on the ordinary everydays. Today, Cheryl and I will host Thanksgiving dinner at our home surrounded by people we love. That is cause for giving thanks.

Today, my thoughts have also turned to several friends who never experienced the kind of love and support that I had while growing up. What I admire most about these friends is how they have taken intentional steps to  give their kids a love-filled home. They remind me that while we can never go back and make a new start we can always start to make a new end. And because of their determination to give what they never received while growing up, their own kids will one day look back on childhood days and feel a profound sense of gratitude. And, perhaps they will look at old family photos and come across a particular favorite that causes them to remember the warmth of hearth and home. Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family. Make it a day worth remembering.

Two weeks ago I sat next to a young Australian couple on a flight from Siem Reap to Bangkok. As I usually do when I travel and meet folks on an airplane, I engaged them in conversation. I not only learned that they are Christ-followers, but that they were on their honeymoon. That opened the door for me to encourage them and also to tell them that Cheryl and I were married in the month of November and would be celebrating our thirty-first wedding anniversary. We had a nice conversation about marriage and then settled in for the flight. As I leaned back in my seat my thoughts turned to my honeymoon. Cheryl and I traveled 2,100 miles on our honeymoon and enjoyed snow skiing and visiting some of our favorite places in the Southwest. We had our first Thanksgiving meal of frozen turkey dinners in our rented condo next to the slopes. And then we returned home, excited about starting our new life together.

A couple of months ago, Cheryl and I attended the wedding of the son of some of our very dearest and oldest friends. At the reception, the best man raised his glass to toast the young couple and said, “When you look back on this day thirty years from now, may you see this as the day you loved each other the least.” Cheryl and I turned to each other and nodded in agreement. As much as we loved each other thirty-one years ago, our love today is richer and better than either of us could have ever imagined. Today, I am especially grateful to have enjoyed 11,315 days of being married to Cheryl. I love you, Cheryl, and look forward to all of the days still ahead of us.