The week before Christmas, one of the two pastors at the faith community Whitney and I are a part of passed away completely unexpectedly in a horrible accident at his gym. I was not especially close to him--I have a closer relationship with our other pastor and his family--but still, David always made me feel loved and valued. He always had a smile and a hug when he saw me, always asked how things were going, and always made me feel like he would have been there if I needed to talk to him. I don't think I have ever met a man who was as full of love for other people as David was. And he did not discriminate--it didn't matter who you were, why you needed it, or what it was, he was there to help you and to remind you that you were an important person with something to contribute.
I saw him the day it happened. I was there for a meeting, a planning session for a women-led worship series that's going to be in the spring. He was doing something else, but when I walked by his office, he gave me one of those signature smiles that lit up his whole face, said hi and asked how I was. If I would have known that was the last time I would ever see him, I probably would have said something other than "I'm great, thanks David." But that was it. His accident happened that night, when he was alone at his gym.
I could never capture into words how grateful I am even that I was able to observe David in action. He lived life unassumingly but more fully than I think I've ever seen, making sure to love every person he came into contact with. He had a knack for seeing someone's gifts, even through what other people might see as their faults or annoying quirks.
His memorial service was this afternoon in Austin, held at a baseball field. A celebration of his life, including his favorite foods and music, is currently going on at the Warehouse where we hold services, where I last saw David Gentiles, and where I happened to be when I heard that he was gone. Sometimes it sucks to have lives in two places and to only be able to be in one. At least I was able to read the text of one of the eulogies that was given...
here.