I lost a good friend yesterday. Well, I did not really lose him, but we are now separated between worlds, and I will not see him again until after I die. Ken Davis is a man I have known for over 2 decades. We did life together.
We studied together in church meetings, we shared coffees on a weekly basis for years, he did my taxes every year, and most recently trained my wife and I on accounting software that we use in our Mission. He has been a friend, a prayer partner, a comrade, and an encourager. We were only a couple of months apart in age [read: we are old guys]. We both have a love for books. (I continue to assert that there is no nicer furniture than books). We spurred each other on in many ways. I will miss him.
Ken loved to drive. He would think nothing of hoping in the car to go to London or Toronto or beyond to pick up something he was interested in. For a while it was tropical fish – he maintained a couple of large tanks in his home and brooded over the colonies of fish that he stocked. Sometimes, he and his wife Pam would drive to Grand Rapids to check out the Christian bookstore warehouses, returning home with bags of books to sustain their reading interests for the next couple of months. He would tell me what he picked up (causing me to salivate at times), often loaning me books to support my own reading habit.
Ken and Pam raised two children, a daughter, who now serves with Betel Mission in England, along with her husband and their 2 young children. Ken was fiercely proud of them, and at Tim Hortons he often got out his phone to show the staff the latest pics of his grandkids. He deeply felt the Covid restrictions on travel that made seeing the grandchildren such an impossibility over the past couple of years. Ken was also proud of his son, who lives in Cambridge. When his son had some issues in his personal life, I got to see the father in Ken responding graciously, yet firmly, to help his son get on his feet again. We often chatted on family issues and shared ideas that could help us both.
Ken was always a bit of a wag, with a boyish sense of humour. We would get to the counter at Tim’s, and the server would say “How are you today?” Ken would reply, “old and fat” and then laugh like a little kid. At 6 feet tall and probably 350 pounds, he would often refer to himself as “cute and cuddly”. He loved political cartoons, and many mornings in Tim Hortons he had the latest quip loaded on his phone to show me when we met.
Ken had a generous spirit and was very giving when it came to those in need, particularly Christian missions. He knew we were in ministry and gave us very favorable rates to do our taxes and provide counsel on accounting matters. He gave generously of his time and talents to church work, missions agencies locally and abroad, and individuals in need.
He had his health issues. He was a cancer survivor, had experienced replacement surgeries on both his knees, he was a diabetic. As age caught up, he began to slow down a bit. But his irrepressible humour and his love for the Lord continued right to the end. Just over two weeks ago, the day prior to Christmas eve, we shared what was to be our last coffee together in our usual spot at Tim Hortons. We were both looking forward to our respective churches’ Christmas Eve services. Who would have guessed that for Ken it would be his last Christmas this side of heaven?
The week following Christmas we both came down with Covid, though at different times. In Ken’s case, it progressed, and then he experienced a cardiac arrest. He spent several days in ICU at the local hospital, unconscious and on life support. Yesterday, when life support was removed, he went from earth into the presence of Jesus.
For Ken, it was the removal of sore feet, pain in the knees, the bother of diabetic meds and testing, the stresses of employment, the worries of the return of his cancer (his last diagnosis the doctor told him it would be simply a matter of time before it returned). Now he is released from all that, and he enters a well-deserved rest in the eternal kingdom.
For us, it is shock and a loss. I will miss my friend and coffee partner. But we know, in his heart he was ready to go. He had made his peace with Jesus long ago and lived to promote His glory. Today he is re-united with friends who have preceded him to glory.
Save us a spot, Buddy. One day we will again be together.
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