HEAVEN'S WELCOMING COMMITTEE took on a new leader two weeks ago. If ever there were a thought that the Pearly Gates were quiet and dignified, sort of like a piano recital on a Sunday afternoon, let's put that theory to rest right now. Mike Smith is now large and in charge, and the party is as alive now as it's ever been. He's God's right-hand man.
Those of us who knew Mike knew he was bound to get that position someday. He loved his life and embraced his faith, and he loved people, probably more than anyone I've ever known. If anyone had the gift of making people feel welcome, it was Mike.
A bear hug was his greeting card. Unconditional love was his message.
The world would be a happier place if we could all be like Mike.
The sad part in all this is that we just didn't see it coming so soon, not at age 48, not when he was so alive and in shape. Just the day before he left this life for the next, he ran vigorously while training for a marathon.
Mike's huge heart stopped working. He was gone in an instant.
It doesn't seem fair. Mike had a great marriage with his wife Kristi and a loving relationship with his two daughters, Abbi and Faith (both students at Springboro, pictured above). He had so much to offer.
So why did he have to leave so soon?
We'll never know until, one day, we join Mike in the party.
I first met Mike more than 10 years ago when he was -- surprise, surprise -- a social pastor at SouthBrook Christian Church. It was his job to meet people and make them feel welcome, then get them connected to other people.
Yeah, you could say Mike was pretty good at what he did. That would be like saying Michelangelo probably did pretty well in art class, too. He was such a natural. In that regard, he was more than just a church employee; he was God's messenger, delivering love.
He stayed that way, even when he left vocational ministry to devote more time to flying and being with his family. He wrote me a message on my birthday this past summer: "Happy B-Day Jeff. I'm glad God took time out to create you," said said. I told him later I thought that sentiment applied more to him than me, but I appreciated the comment.
“God is good, brother,” he’d always say.
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THERE'S A SLOGAN that says, “You may be the only Bible some people ever read." And if that's the case, then some people got the full flavor of God just by being around Mike. I know I did. I'll miss him in so many ways.
I plan to see him again. When I get to the pearly gates, I'm sure I'll walk quietly, nervously, wondering if I'm in the right place, just like I did years ago when I walked into SouthBrook. But soon I'll hear the loud music. I'll hear Mike call out my name, and he'll be smiling. He'll be singing. He'll have that sense of peace that comes from living with He Who Made Everything. Then he'll point me in the direction of my long-lost family and loved ones (see, he'll still be getting everyone connected.
And then I'll get The Bear Hug. It'll be his way of saying my ticket has been stamped.
"Thanks, Mike, I'm really glad God took time out to create you," I'll say.
"God is good, brother."
I can't imagine how Kristi and the girls feel. They too have their faith, and I know they've felt the love and support of so many people. They're comforted also by the love and memories of a man who was such an inspiration to so many people. Like so many who have lost loved ones, I hope they continue to feel wrapped up in a presence that can only be described as heavenly.
If God is love, then Mike is a huge Valentine's card, with a huge heart on the front.
Crumpled, a little of course, because of all that hugging.