This time of year, men, women, and children of faith turn their hearts and minds toward a birth some 2,000 years ago in the sleepy little town of Bethlehem. And rightly so. Christ’s birth, after all, divided time, marked the beginning of the end of the Roman Empire, and inspired all who would follow Him to take up our crosses and die to ourselves daily in His service. December may not historically be the month Jesus was born, but since 336 A.D., we’ve marked the 25th as the day we celebrate.
But today, my friends, is Dec. 26th. The day AFTER Christmas. And I want to turn your attention to a different birth which occurred in 1972. Though I wouldn’t meet him for some 12 years or so later, my friend Ryan Jennings came into the world that fine day. And, while you may be thinking it’s a stretch to compare the birth of the Savior of all Mankind, to the birth of a regular fellow now raising his family in rural Oklahoma, I’d argue otherwise.
You see, for the better part of my existence, Ryan has been the hands and feet of Christ in my life. He’s loved me at my lowest, made me laugh when joy felt worlds away, prayed with me and over me when I couldn’t see past my own fear or the trauma of loss. He came running when my parents died…and when my brother died. He’s laughed with me, cried with me, and carried on with me some of the most ridiculous conversations two men have ever held.
See, Dec. 26th 1972 may have been his birthday, but it turns out I got the gift: his enduring and powerful friendship. And since he’s 6 months older than I am, I got it in advance.
With Ryan, extra gifts came. His mom and dad, Marilyn and DeWayne, were a second set of parents to me. (God knew I was too big a mess for one set of parents to contend with, I suppose, no matter how good and gracious they were.) And, through Ryan, I met his sister, Nicole, along with Jason Webb, Scott Badley, Sheila Tolbert, Mike Moberly…all of whom are still my good friends.
Today, Ryan turns 50, and I want to celebrate the gift he’s been to me. Because of Christ’s birth and what He accomplished 33 years later upon the cross, Ryan’s life has left a sizeable impact in my own. Oh, he’d be the first to remind you that he’s as messy and fallible as any man ever has been. And it’s true. I’ve known him long enough to know he isn’t perfect. And he knows the same of me. But in the way true brothers do, we have loved each other in our imperfections and urged one another to carry on following, in our feeble ways, the steps of the One who was perfect for us all.
Ryan, my friend, you know I think carefully about my words. I do not say this lightly. What an honor it has been to be your friend and to call you my own. Like all of us, you surely doubt yourself from time to time…perhaps even your place in this hard, cruel world. You shouldn’t. You’ve been one of the most loyal, kind, generous, gracious, merciful, prayerful, and loving men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. My life is better because you were born. And I don’t mean to ever let you forget it.
I love you, my brother and my friend.
