I’m so sorry Tante Janet, Vicki, and family.
Gord was part of the tight group of friends that hung out, camped, played darts, and swam in your pool together for a number of years. I have great memories of Gord. Cruising through downtown Hamilton on the way here and there in his souped up 77(?) Chevy Shortbox pickup. Watching wrestling in the basement at Oom Adrianus’s and Tante Janet’s. He was so quick to laugh, and when he did, his red cheeks would get even redder. He was happy to let others take centre stage, but when he had it, he could rock it. I remember him being able to preach in Dutch. He had apparently memorized parts of a Dutch sermon his dad must’ve listed too more than once.
But uncle Adri’s death, the loss of the company, and much more appear to have had dramatic effects of Gordie. Despite a marriage to Jacqueline that failed, and the launch of his own work, Gord always seemed to long for the past. He remembered it fondly, and appeared unprepared to leave it behind sometimes. The tragedy for us is that our memories repeatedly included drinking, and often to excess. I worry about that affect on my buddy.
I wonder if drinking was so associated to that past fondly remembered by Gord, that he would drink to remember that past and to forget his present. Either way, the false god of alcohol that promised him joy turned against him and enslaved him. Satan will use what he can to destroy all that is good. He’s powerful and relentless.
But I glorify our Saviour with all those with faith enough to join me. I glorify a God that demands perfection. A perfection Jesus lived to accomplish, then died for our failure to do so. We don’t merit our salvation. For us covenant children, God will adopt us and call us by His name. In the same way that Gord and Vicki were adopted and called VanEgmonds. Gord’s saviour knew He wasn’t a good Christian. He knows that none of us are. And maybe Jesus knew what was best for Gordie. Maybe he knew Gordie wasn’t doing it right, and spared him from more of himself, and took him home. My hope is that Gord is sitting on a couch next to Oom Adrianus. They are smiling and praising Jesus for doing what we can’t. Maybe grabbing bag of chips from the freezer and watching old WWF wrestling together.
The world is broken. We are broken. But we can smile and look forward to a new earth. That’s the hope I’m holding fast to. Please join me. I love you guys.
