Vocation

To the Spencer Family,

Today you lost a father, a husband and a friend. Michael Spencer, or to me Mr. Spencer, was a warrior. It was people like him that made me fall in love with the church. I don’t know why things like this have to happen to great people like Mr. Spencer and the Spencer family, but today my church and his family lost a warrior. I can’t imagine what your family is feeling today and will feel for the next few months and years. I went home for Thanksgiving just a few weeks ago and I had an awesome worship experience at church. As I was headed to the car, Mr. Spencer stopped me, gave me a hug and then told me how proud he was of everything I was doing. I replied “I’m trying” and he said “no you’re doing.” That’s the last conversation I will ever have with Mr. Spencer. He did what he usually did for me, he gave me uplift. Thanksgiving 2017.

I can’t pretend that Mr. Spencer and I were super close, we met my senior year of high school. I remember his family joining the church and him giving his everything to the church. I remember helping him learn the sound system and when I left for college he always making a point to let me know how proud he was of me. It feels surreal to lose a friend like Mr. Spencer so my heart hurts to think about how you, his family, feels. I said a prayer this morning that God would meet every need in your family and I don’t know how that happens, but I trust in God and his plan. Mr. Spencer leaves a legacy of love and a spirit of doing anything that God asked him to do. In our church, he met a need and was faithful. Individuals like Michael Spencer make the church work. I’m praying for your family and that God give you strength. Your husband, your father, and your friend lived a life full of love for God, that will never be forgotten.

I share with you the agony of your grief,
   The anguish of your heart finds echo in my own.
   I know I cannot enter all you feel
   Nor bear with you the burden of your pain;
I can but offer what my love does give:
   The strength of caring,
   The warmth of one who seeks to understand
   The silent storm-swept barrenness of so great a loss.
This I do in quiet ways,
   That on your lonely path
   You may not walk alone.

– Howard Thurman

With Love,

Devin Harvin