Good night Dad.

I love you.

I'll See You in the Morning.

Every family has its own traditions and rituals. One that I especially recall as we were growing up was a little ritual we went through at bedtime with Mom & Dad. Before heading off to bed, we would kiss one of them and say "Good night." They would respond "Good night." We would say "Love you." -- "Love you." "See you in the morning." -- "See you in the morning." We would then repeat that sequence with the other parent and march off to bed. I feel compelled to work through that ritual with Dad now. Those words seem so appropriate for the moment.

We say "Good night" to him, not Good bye!

My Dad, Mel Crocker, did not cease to exist when he left this body behind Saturday morning. He is not in that body anymore, but he is alive!--Even more so than he ever was here. That belief is not just a self-manufactured ointment for soothing the pain of our loss. I believe it from the bottom of my heart, based on the Word of God.

The Apostle Paul in his second letter to the Corinthians said of our bodies:

"For we know that if the earthly tent which is our house is torn down, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

" … while we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord. We prefer rather to be absent from the body and to be at home with the Lord."

In his first letter to that same church he had tied the resurrection of Christ to that of believers.

"For if the dead are not raised," he said, "not even Christ has been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, your faith is worthless; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If we have only hoped in Christ in this life, we are of all men most to be pitied."

Christ was raised from the dead. Dad is absent from the body, but present with the Lord. That is a certainty.

And we say "Good Night" to him, but in a very real sense we are the ones who are sleeping. So we say "Good Night, Dad" as we continue to sleep; but we don't say
"Good Bye"

Good Night Dad, Love you.

It's easy to say "Love you, Dad". He and my Mom and Rocki taught us well to love. And not just to do it, but to say it. It is difficult for most men to use those words, even to their wives. But any of you who have been around the Crockers at the close of one of our gatherings will hear "I love you" expressed even amongst the men. You might even overhear it in a telephone conversation. We have learned that there is nothing effeminate about the words "I love you."

But he did more than just say it, as important as that is. He gave us lessons on love to the very end. He cared deeply for people.

Sometimes, often, he cared to the point of worry.

He was not afraid of death. He had made peace with God. He knew he was going to Heaven. But he was concerned at how his death would affect us. When he called me with the word that he would definitely need bypass surgery he expressed confidence that things would go well, but that there were certain concerns that could cause complications. I told him that given the worst that could happen (meaning his death), we would miss him greatly, but it would not be the end. We would see him again. He was glad to hear those words and asked that if anything should happen that I make sure everyone understood that, especially Karen and Curt.

They will Dad. They will.

After things began to go wrong, I shared with him about how God was working so wonderfully with us as we waited outside. His response was that sometimes God had to use strong measures to get our attention, and that if this had to happen to anyone, he was glad it was him.

Then, in demonstration of his sense of humor, he lifted his head and eyes as if speaking directly to the Lord and said jokingly, "But did You have to be so rough?"
I think we've all been asking that question a bit more seriously since then.

But Dad would not want us to be bitter toward the Lord because we don't understand why He let this happen, or why He allowed Dad to suffer so. Curt & Linda & I were discussing this the other night. I confessed that I don't have the answer, but that I sure plan to ask God to explain it to us when I get there. Curt suggested that God might have Dad do it. We don't understand it yet. But I'm sure Dad does.

I love you Dad. See you in the morning.

See you in the morning. This is the best part for me now. It's great to know that he's in Heaven. And it was so nice to experience his love. But that doesn't leave us with anything.

"See you in the morning" reminds me that I will see him again. I know that because he is not just my Dad, he's my brother in Christ.

This has not always been so. During my entire childhood and youth Dad did not know the Lord. It was not until I had gone into the Air Force that he placed his trust in Christ.

In fact, I recall an incident when I was 13 or 14 years old. I recall it vividly, but never reminded him of it, because it would have hurt him deeply to remember his former attitude toward my faith in Christ.

I was sitting at the dining room table reading my Bible when he came in. He was not impressed. In fact it made him angry. He said he had seen that I spent a lot of time reading the Bible and that I prayed at meals. He said he did not want any fanatic living in his house and that, if I was praying for him, I was to stop. Of course I was praying for him, and I disobeyed his order to stop. I was hurt, and remember crying into the pages of my Bible.

(Now remember, I only mentioned this now, so that you can see how far he has come, not to tarnish his memory.)

It took another six or seven years before he openly considered the claims of Christ.

On a Saturday in early January of 1966 he had his first heart attack. I went into the Air Force two days later and had to follow his recovery by letter. In mid March, at Keesler Air Force Base I received a letter that thrilled my heart!
It was dated March 4, '66 .
In it he said:

I have finished reading Luke in the Bible and am very interested in reading the rest of the way--I'm desperately groping, son, and Rev. Sells, through his very frequent and welcome visits, has helped me a great deal. Also, Sis & Tom, through their sincere faith, have been a great help to me. But of all, it goes without saying, your faith and your dogged determination has made my pride in you blossom into a feeling that soon I too will join you as a Christian. I ask you pray that I can soon overcome whatever power it is that is restraining me and keeping me from asking his guidance and blessings.

The tears I shed over that letter were tears of Joy!

Three years later I received another letter from Dad while I was in Crete.

24 February (1969)

Dearest son, Gary:

A line to let you know that we are thinking of you here and missing you and looking forward to having you home. As the weeks fly by the time grows shorter until you will be home to stay.

You spoke of leading the services up to the sermon, and of singing on radio 4 times recently the solo business and all. You know what is coming don't you? You are turning into a "ham" just like your Dad, and you won't be happy unless you can appear in front of people. (we sure need tenors in the choir - ha) speaking of choir and church-

March 15, 1969 [in different ink]

Would you believe it has been that long since I started this letter? Well, to my dismay and embarrassment it has--I don't know what I started to say about church--
[new ink again!]

(March 30th--This is getting quite ridiculous-)

What would you say if I told you that Douglas has accepted the Lord as his personal savior and that both of us have offered our lives to the Lord, to do with as he sees fit? Well, it's true.

Douglas is leaning toward the teen dope problem and I'm not sure the Lord has assigned me yet--I believe it will be something to do with the youth of this area. By the time you get home it is my hope that we will have Allen, Curt & Karen in camp with us--then let the devil play his games--he won't be any match for the six Crockers, backed by our Lord and Savior.

I can say, "I'll see you in the morning, Dad" because I know he is safely at home in Heaven--and I'm going there too. He's not there because of all the good things he has done. And that's not how I'm getting there either. We'll be in Heaven together, in the company of many of you because we have each accepted Christ's death, burial and resurrection as payment in full for the penalty for our sins--a penalty that we deserve to pay ourselves.

"By Grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, that no one should boast."

Ephesians 2:8-9

"For God so Loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life."

John 3:16

I believe Dad would want me to use this moment to challenge you. Have you come to the place where Dad had come? Are you at peace with God? That is, have you come to the place in your spiritual life where you can say that you know for certain that if you were to die today you would go to Heaven? -- You can know.

To receive Christ, and be given eternal life you must do four things:

1. ADMIT your spiritual need. "I'm a sinner."

2. REPENT and be willing to turn from your sin.

3. BELIEVE that Jesus Christ died for you on the cross.

4. RECEIVE, through prayer, Jesus Christ into your heart and life.

I'm going to lead in a very brief prayer to give you the opportunity to do that privately where you sit right now. I believe Dad would want me to do that. If you would like to place your trust in Christ repeat this prayer after me. It does not have to be out loud.

Dear Lord Jesus:
I know that I am a sinner. I believe you died for my sins. Right now, I turn from my sins and open the door of my heart and life. I receive you as my personal Lord and Savior. Thank you for saving me now. Amen.

If you did that, and meant it, you are now a child of God. Would you do me a favor? Will you tell me about it, so that I can encourage you?

So now we've got our pajamas on. (We never wore pajamas.) And we're ready for bed. We'll have a good night's sleep knowing that Dad's OK.

And we'll be OK too, Dad.

Good Night, Dad.

We love you.

We'll see you in the morning.