Last February, I sat in the high school gym with my dad, feeling troubled. He noticed and asked if I was okay. I admitted I was bothered. He began reflecting on aging and his life’s work.
He asked, "Do you ever wonder if anything you’ve done has helped?” I replied, "Dad, you’ve helped so many people."
We watched girls compete in a cheerleading competition. He noted that many might have heard him speak at Camp Barakel. I agreed.
After the competition, a woman in her 50s approached, saying, “Ken Pierpont, you were my youth pastor." They chatted, and I told my dad he had helped her.
I stood in the cold parking lot, wanting to stay close to him. He spoke of the blessings of good work, a good wife, and good kids. He urged me to be faithful to ministry, my wife, and my kids.
Today, on the anniversary of his death, I reflect on who he was and know for a fact that his life helped me.
Bless You.
Pastor.
