Paying Honor to Jim Sanders - For Me Light, in a Dark Place

It's been a few years since I met the last person I have managed to keep as what I would call a friend, if that gives some indication of the small circle of folks who will tolerate me. Jim was in that tiny ring. I met James W Sanders in 2002 in Fayetteville, NC. He would have celebrated his birthday last Wednesday had he not died last November, on the 5th, at age 80. His birthday has me thinking about him. I believe he was good for the world. I know he was good for me.

Jim was intelligent and witty. When with him I laughed a lot, and heartily. Something like that means a lot to a melancholy someone like me.

Jim had means but lived simply, in a mobile home in tiny Erwin, NC, just north of Fayetteville. He loved his children - one daughter and one son; and loved his granddaughter also. He spoke of them regularly with a kind of healthy and humble thankfulness.

Jim read the Scriptures and prayed every day, and participated weekly in our church's Sunday gatherings. And he asked me a lot of questions, especially about the Trinity. He wanted to understand. I don't believe that's common in today's American and southern church. He also participated in a men's study group I hosted in my home. In my experience, that too is rare for a southern Baptist in his 70's. But like I said, Jim wanted to understand. He was teachable even in old age, and even by a young punk, like me.

Jim was a smart-ass in the best sense of the word, like Jesus in His cutting sarcasm. I loved that about him. He did not fear the faces of men.

Following my leaving Fayetteville, Jim and me kept in touch by phone. And I occasionally sent him pictures of my children since they didn't exist when Jim and me lived near one another. He was interested in how they were growing and getting along. And when we talked he always asked about my wife and my work. And he always pressed me to keep him in my prayers. Maybe better than most of us he recognized his dependent status.

This poor tribute certainly does not do justice to Jim or to what he has meant to me. But I offer it nonetheless. Maybe he'll hear about it, in heaven.