As I write this George Will is likely in Italy, at least he was a few weeks ago when I answered my phone. George doesn't call me usually unless he's in the States, usually when he's back home in Florida, but I was especially glad to hear his voice most recently because I had been wondering if perhaps he hadn't gone home to be with Jesus. It had been a while since I'd heard from him, and after all he is pushing 73 or 74, somewhere around there. When he does leave this life I won't know it because no one will telephone me or send me a note; maybe I'll have a "sense" that he's gone, maybe not. I'll probably just wonder why I haven't heard from him.
Whether or not I hear from him again I'll keep praying for Debbie and Art, they are his children. I've been praying for them for around 44 years, ever since I first met George at Bible College. I guess they both have children now and they probably aren't far behind me in terms of age. They don't know who I am, they don't know I've been praying for them for almost 44 years, and they don't know that their Dad has played a significant part in my life. Heck, if it hadn't been for George I wouldn't have been expelled from Bible College, but I'm getting just a little ahead of myself.
I met George in the fall of 1966 at Bible College, he was 13 years older than I was then and he still is 13 years older than I am, I haven't been able to gain any ground on him. George was also a first-year student. He had been in business and had had a miraculous conversion, pulled off the side of the road, tears streaming down his cheeks, and gave his heart to Jesus. Actually, he gave his life to Jesus.
George is from south Florida, around Homestead as I recall, is around 6' 5", and had a southern drawl 44 years ago, as in a real southern d---r---a---w---l. I don't pick up the drawl anymore, but back then waiting for George to finish a word was like waiting for a train with 200 coal cars to pass a railroad crossing; you might as well turn your engine off and settle back 'cause you ain't going anywhere anytime soon. George's drawl was especially evident when he sang - an item I'll touch on in a future post. I mean that man could start singing a song in January and tease those lyrics out at least until Independence Day.
I often credit George with ruining my life. There I was, a bare 16 years old and what does George expose me to? Dietrich Bonhoeffer, A.W. Tozer, Andrew Murray, Watchman Nee, Oswald Chambers - talk about an irresponsible older brother in Christ! When I read Bonhoeffer's words, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die," I believed them. When I read Nee and Murray on the indwelling Christ, I believed them - Galatians 2:20 became etched in my mind. When Tozer wrote about a passionate pursuit of God that would not take "no" for an answer that became my ideal. And when Chambers cast the vision of "my utmost for his highest" I wanted to climb that mountain.
George talked about Jesus - whether we were working on a crew tearing down a house, or eating a meal, or walking across campus, the man was, and is, all about Jesus. He talked about Jesus, sang about Jesus, and wasn't afraid to ask hard questions or to be asked hard questions. He prayed the way I eat ice cream and pizza, with pure enjoyment. And George was always praying and looking for revival.
Once when George had been injured on the work crew and was confined to his dorm room he said to me, "Now tonight at dinner, during prayer time, they are going to pray for me. Ask them not to pray for me but to pray for revival." And that's just what I did. When the folks at the head table said that we should pray for George this 16 year old spoke up and said, "Brother Will has asked that instead of praying for him that we please pray for revival." It never dawned on me that offense might be taken at that request, maybe it was and maybe it wasn't, I was just passing on my friend's request.
Since 1967 George has traveled the United States and Europe sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ. Maybe this wouldn't have happened had he not been expelled from Bible College; and come to think of it, I guess just like I can thank him for getting me expelled that he can thank me for getting him expelled, but I'm getting ahead of myself again.
The last time I saw George was around 1977 in Gainesville, FL. I was selling Encyclopedia Britanica and was working some leads in Gainesville. I called his parents' home just in case he was back in the States and low and behold he was not only in the States but he was right there in their home. At that point it had been 10 years since we'd seen each other; now it's been 34 years. I've never stopped praying for George or for Debbie or for Art - after all, the man ruined my life, the least I can do is to pray for him and his family.
I suppose I should tell you about being expelled from Bible College - but why don't I wait until my next post?
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