Who takes down a tent and pitches it in a new location in December? My friend Dave Johnson did.
When the Apostle Paul speaks of his death, he refers to it as “departing to be with Christ” (Philippians 1:23). This word “depart” pictures striking camp, pulling up the tent pegs to move on. What a wonderful image for death. We are pulling up our tent on this side of eternity and planting it in the presence of our Lord on the other side.
At nearly ninety-four years old, my friend Dave Johnson pulled up his tent pegs on December 22 and pitched his tent in a new location — eternity. Dave is now with the Lord he loved.
My life has been entwined with Dave’s since 1975. I was the new guy in town — the new collegiate staff on the team. Dave was also a new guy. He was a veteran staff who had just moved to Akron, Ohio with his family to initiate a community ministry. We ended up on the same Ohio Navigator staff team at the same time.
For five decades (that’s a long time!), Dave has been a friend, a mentor, and a godly example. I co-officiated at his daughter’s wedding, played him in racquetball, and traveled to Europe with him. I often commented that “I want to be like Dave when I grow up.” It will be hard to live in a world without Dave Johnson.
Friendships are gifts — special touches of God’s grace that nourish and enrich our lives. We are different people because of our shared relationships. What were some of the gifts that Dave gave me in fifty years of friendship?
The gift of friendliness. When Dave, his wife Lori, and I traveled to Bulgaria, none of us knew the language. This didn’t stop Dave from meeting people. At a weekend conference Dave stood at the door and with a smiling face shook each person’s hand, introducing himself with “Hi, I’m Dave Johnson.” Meanwhile, I’m standing silently beside him, cautious about meeting people who shared a different language than me. Language was no barrier for Dave’s friendliness; I needed to learn from his example.
The gift of excellence. Dave worked at doing things well. He was part of a team that helped revise The Navigators 2:7 discipleship course (over a million copies of these books have sold over the years!). For a church or group to use the material they had to first attend a weekend seminar. Guess who was one of the seminar leaders? My friend Dave. I attended several seminars and watched him in action. Dave was not haphazard in his approach but prepared well for each session. His gregarious nature, knowledge of the Scriptures, and first-hand examples drew people into the 2:7 experience. At nearly every seminar I attended people would clap at the end in honor of Dave’s teaching. “Who is this that gets an ovation at the end of a workshop?” I asked myself.
The gift of enthusiasm. Whatever Dave did he poured his heart into it. He was one of the most competitive racquet ball players I have ever played. Even though he was nearly twenty years older, he attacked the ball with the passion of someone much younger. I don’t recall winning a game against him. This enthusiasm spilled over into his children’s lives. Dave told me how he brought a big cow bell to his children’s soccer games and rang the bell on the sidelines to cheer his children and their team. Talk about enthusiasm! He wasn’t embarrassed to support his kids.
The gift of commitment. Dave was committed to making disciples. In one of my last phone calls, Dave talked about the men he was discipling. My friend Dane Allphin describes how time-after-time he would meet people for lunch or breakfast and spot Dave in another booth meeting another man. Dave modeled the example of the New Testament leader Barnabas — always encouraging others, always motivating by life and word.
The gift of faithfulness. Dave could be slightly obsessive about details. I tend to be a little more “fluid” in my approach to specifics. Since Dave and I shared several ministry projects together, he would inevitably ask me about whether I had followed through on some details. I would bristle at his reminders and assured him that the items were covered.
The gift of family. I could always count on Dave encouraging me in my marriage and my family. Family was important to him. He frequently described the latest book he and Lori had read on marriage or family. They were a great team – blending Dave’s extroversion with Lori’s thoughtful reflection. Dave took seriously his role as a husband, father, and a grandfather. At his 90th birthday party, his grandchildren described how he had embraced Twitter, Facebook, and Snapchat before they had. Dave wanted to always connect with his children and grandchildren.
The gift of love. Dave’s last gift to me was his love for his Savior. This was epitomized in a gift to one of his grandchildren. When a granddaughter reached her twenty-first birthday, Dave and Lori gave her a Bible. This wasn’t an ordinary Bible; this book was marked up with Dave and Lori’s underlining of their most meaningful verses. It wasn’t the typical favorites of John 3:16 or Philippians 4:6,7; their underlined passages stretched from Genesis to Revelation. Behind each highlighted verse was a story, a memory of how God had used this passage in their lives. Both Dave and Lori enjoyed a vibrant, faith-filled love for their Savior in His word.
I will have to learn to live in a world without Dave Johnson. Like King David, he “served the purpose of God in his generation and then fell asleep” (Acts 13:36). I want to say this at the end of my life — I served the purpose of God in my generation . . . and then fall asleep. I hope I can do this with friendliness, excellence, enthusiasm, faithfulness, and love. I want to be like Dave when I grow up.
