Last Friday, the Lord took Rod Jackson, a former deacon at our church, children's ministry powerhouse, father of five and friend to many, home to be with his savior. I posted this memory on a blog dedicated to Rod.
I remember Rod coming down the concourse with my son in his arms. It gave him a tremendous amount of joy to hand him to us. "Look at his feet! They're huge! He's going to be a hulk!" He said it like he was handing us a Grade-A son. And he was right. After he said it, he laughed and laughed. I loved his laugh.
I'm sure that my son and his two youngest kids were the hardest adoptions he ever did. I lost count of the amount of times he had to fly out of state to tend to something or the other, pushing things through. There was some case manager involved who was grossly incompetent and negligent. Rod fought and fought until they did things right.
I was a little astonished that Rod went on to found an adoption agency. I figured that the first experience was so difficult that only a crazy person would want to repeat it. But Rod was a fighter. There were a few times where it got the better of him, but many, many times where he did something good because he stuck with it long after anyone else would have quit. If Rod was on your side, you had an army.
I've never known anyone who could keep the attention of so many kids for so long with sheer energy and love. One year our VBS was rained out and all we had was one big room with over a 100 kids. Rod kept them entertained so that others (and Rod) could share about Jesus with them. The high point for me was Rod singing "One in a Million" while we rolled on the floor.
Another memory. During our adoption we did something really stupid, considering our weird adoption situation (which I WON'T confess here). I went to Rod to tell him and expected him to confirm my worst fears. Instead he laughed and laughed. When he finished laughing I wasn't afraid any more.