Remembering Mike...
I have not written for a while because this is going to be what I write on and I have been putting it off. Not because I am a slouch but because I just don't want to admit it is true. On June 20th, my friend Mike closed his eyes to this world and opened in the arms of Jesus--it is just that simple. I was roofing my house the day his wife called me to give me the news. I cried my eyes out, I mean I bawled, so loud my neighbor asked if I was okay. I told him my friend died and I wish I was there. I remember calling his cell phone a few times that week just hoping he would pcik up and signal to me that this really had not just happened. There is a special place in my heart for Mike Lundberg, or Lundy as we called him. He was 29 years old or should I say-young! I loved that guy, always have and always will--Big time!
The first time I met Mike I honestly cannot remember. i was the Youth Pastor at Hope PResbyterian church in Richfield, Minnesota. That being said, I really don't remember being there at Hope when he was not. He is just synonymous with that season in our lives. Mike was full of energy and built. I mean cut, physically he had pipes for muscles on his arms and chisled to a degree. He looked like a mythological Greek god. The kind of guy you just did not mess with. He was not a bully or a tough guy, just solid, but in the same token tender. He was the kind of guy that you wanted on your side but also the kind who would cry with you and love you forever. His smile cut the heart. He would smile and his whole face would light up and immediatley he was no longer a delinquent in mischief but just a guy who mysteriously made his way into your deep recess of your soul and there was no way to let him go. You could never really stay upset with him because he would become soft as clay when he knew you were bummed out with him. That was Mike. Rowdy, loud but tender and soft, winsome and everyone's best friend. He was the best.
He took the same softball number that I wore. I was number nine and he wore number nine too. I will never forget the time I was watching their high school 12 inch softball team play and he effortlessly scooped up a ground ball at short stop and threw to first. He missed the first basemen not by a little, but by alot. I mean he threw it over the first base dug out and the first base line fence. He reminded me of myself so much. He made a great play and then threw it over the fence--just like I would have done! That is why I just loved him so. It was like I was looking in the mirror and saw myself. He never gave up on anyone, including his own fading body. He died of very aggressive Leukemia. His body gave out but not his spirit. God was carrying him all the way. Through at least two bone marrow transplants and a stem cell transplant. There was probably more but he did not want to worry us. He wanted to live like he was alive not like he was dying. I will never forget the day he told me that. I vowed to always remember. Mike I remember. So does JEsus. Remember. Jesus remembers you, your mom and dad, sister, and of course, Janet, your awesome wife! Janet, thanks for loving Mike for the two years you had together. You are the best. I knew immediatly the two of you would be best friends, soul mates, lovers and, husband and wife. He cherished you and loved you beyond words. I will never forget you either. And I will always remember you Mike. You are one of my hero's. And I don't have many, if any hero's, any longer. I kind of gave up on them a few years ago. But if I still have any, you are one of them, to be sure. You never gave up hope, you never gave up believing, you never gave up loving, you never gave up on people, and most of all you never gave up on God.
You are in a better place today. Heaven is most certainly louder. It is a party with a rugby game going on--if they play rugby in heaven. And the rest of us here on earth, we are a bit worse for the ware because we need more people like you. People who are untainted by cynicism and sarcasm, people who are hopers and not filled with despair. People of the mustard seed, that what I will remember about you. I love you MIke, see you someday!
9er
