More than Gold

I learned that a professor of mine from Grace died on Tuesday. I didn't know he was sick, so it came as a shock.

This professor was a good friend of mine. I always called him "Professor," and he always called me, "Student" in response. He encouraged me more in my art than probably any one person ever has before. He critiqued and encouraged and urged me to improve, and it is due to his instruction that I am able to do what I can today. He told me when I last saw him in October that he felt like he poured a great deal of himself into my development. And I think it really disappointed him when I decided to transfer after only two years. I remember him researching Campbell's art department and asking me what I was thinking. And he even offered to double my talent scholarship in order to keep me. And while I declined the offer and decided to make the transfer, knowing that he wanted me to stay that much meant more to me than he could have known.

He never could understand why I left, and I never had the courage to tell him. And of course God's hand has been in the whole thing, and I am ultimately glad that I left. Still I find myself now wondering a little bit now that he's gone. The day I learned that he died, I was working on a painting and thinking how I needed to send him a picture of it. He would have liked to have seen it. He always believed I would go places with my art, much more so than I believed it . . . or still believe it. I think he was pleased when I told him what I was up to back in October, my teaching and portrait painting and all. But he was probably even more disappointed than I was that I didn't continue my education.

It's so strange to think that he's gone. Since I'm so far away, it's hard to really accept that he's dead. I can't imagine him not being there . . . and I can't believe I didn't appreciate him more when he was still alive. But I am so thankful that God gave me that visit to Grace last fall, that I got to spend time with Professor Davis. Changes are hard, and people grow old, contract cancer, and die. Yet God is sovereign and God is good. He loved Professor more than I did, and He brought him home at just the right time.

Yesterday while I was painting, Laura and Jonathan Walton dropped in. I put on a CD for them that a friend of mine from Grace made, and thinking about this friend, and Professor, and Grace filled me with memories. Then Esther called, and I talked with her a while, and even more memories flooded back. And one of David's songs on the CD really struck me for the first time:

Things don’t always last forever

And we can’t always be together.

Life will come and tear our hands apart.

But if we look back on memories

We can see so many blessings.

The thought of you will always bless my heart.

I pray my life will always bless your heart.

And when you think of me

May I be someone that you’re proud of.

And all these memories,

May they be memories that you’re fond of.

And all those times that we’ve shared

May they be more than gold to you.