Dr. Donald Wagner served so many over the years, and my family was very much included in those masses. He consistently carried our banner in scholarship committee meetings, which allowed our family the opportunity to not be burdened by the finances of school. You see… I say “family,” because I mean it. My dad, mom, and myself were all at UWG at the same time, graduating with undergraduate degrees in 2006, 2007, and 2008 respectively. Paying tuition for 3 and the other financial demands of life would have been pretty difficult to say the least, especially with the main “bread winners” having to spend time in class and studying.
“D-Wags” didn’t stop there. He was influential in giving my mother the honor of speaking at her graduation in front of thousands. He was influential in fighting for my father to receive his nursing certification, a fight made necessary because of past that had long since left my dad, but not on paper.
But it went beyond that. He was powerful, but he was personable. He was influential, yet intentional. He was accomplished, yet approachable. He was a good man, well about as good as any of us flawed folks can be in this life. He saw past the flaws of people’s pasts and present situations, into their potential. In the end he lost to cancer, but he won at something much bigger, life.
He had a long fight, but he was able to say goodbyes, and people were able to say goodbyes to him. His daughters Jenny and Chelsea thanked me for caring so much, but the fact that I cared enough to call in and write in from across the world doesn’t say as much about the kind of person I am, but rather I think it speaks far more to the kind of man he was. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t care about a guy like that?
He lived a life that had people from all backgrounds and from all over the world writing, calling, and visiting in his last days, just trying to offer up some words of thankfulness and encouragement to the man we all adored. In the end, I think it was as helpful, or more helpful, to us to say those things than it was for him to hear it, even though, he no doubt loved it.
In some small way, I think we felt like we got the opportunity to say something encouraging to a man that we all felt in some way indebted to. Some people have that effect on us. Just knowing them is blessing enough that even IF they didn’t go out of their way to serve us specifically we feel indebted, but normally those ARE the types of people that do go out of their way. Dr. Wagner was one of those people.
Seemingly, whenever someone passes on, under the age of 80, it’s as if you are pretty much guaranteed to hear someone utter the phrase, “He(or she) is ‘gone too soon.’” The frequency that you’ll hear it tends to increase the younger a person is, or the more people they impacted or talent they had. This often comes from the feeling that this person whether young, or great, or both had so much more to experience and/or so much more to give the world.
I realize that if I died now, at “only” 26 years old, this saying would certainly leave the lips of several in attendance at my funeral or visitation service. Some would mean it, some would say it… well, just because it’s what you say.
But if I die “too soon,” be assured that it is a lie. I’m ready to go. I’m in no hurry, but I’m not afraid.
The greatest miracle in life isn’t the blind seeing, the deaf hearing, or the dead being raised. It’s a heart prone to sin and selfish pride being transformed to want something more, to want to love and serve the God who made it by loving and serving others in His creation above its own interests.
Now I’ve not gotten it perfect along this path, and until it ends I’ve still got a journey to make, but for every day as long as I remember in my life I’ve been able to be a part of that “greatest miracle,” and for much of that journey I’ve been blessed enough to try to help other people experience that miracle as well.
In addition to those miracles, I’ve been blessed to see so many wonderful places and know so many wonderful people (like Dr. Wagner) before either their time or my time was up.
If it all ended today, I’ve had well over 100 years worth of blessings squeezed into under 27, and they’re still coming each day. I'm just writing this to let you know that I have LIVED. I may not have live as many years compared to what the expectation might be, but I have LIVED each of those years.
What greater life could I live with an extra 50 years after the final bell for me? What greater miracle could I experience when the greatest is already in my back pocket. That’s not one of those statements that mean I can just prop my feet up and chill in an entitled mindset, but it’s more of a “I’m playing with house money here.” Everything else is ice cream on the cake (yeah I know you think the saying is icing on the cake and it is, but let’s be honest… ice cream is better… unless it’s mint chocolate chip).
So if I should go before you think I’ve had my fill, just know that I’ve had my cake… (and the whole food pyramid). Even if I should never take another bite of the deliciousness of life, I have indeed had my fill, and much more. If you miss me when that time comes, cry if you must, but don’t cry FOR me. Don’t cry because of what you think I missed out on, because they will be wasted tears. Don’t even cry because of what you think I had to give the world, because no part of the world needs me, because it will still have the One, Jesus, who gave me any and all good things I ever had to give anyway.
When I’m done here, don’t be angry. Don’t ask why. Don’t think you could have chosen better by keeping me here, because you’d be wrong.
Until that time comes… I’ll keep going freely after Him in this race called life, knowing that tomorrow doesn’t need me, and that I’ve already been given more than I deserved. And because of that I wanted you all to know that when there’s no more cake here for me, whether today, or in 70 years, that I will not have died “too soon.”
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