My dad, Wesley Elmer Erickson – my hero – was called to the throne of God in Heaven at approximately 3:30 a.m. on May 17, 2010. I miss him every day. He finally heard the words he had been waiting to hear for more than 86 years: “Well done my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over little, so I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your Master.”
I wish I could have been there. I know he received a hero’s welcome. Now he wears a crown and sits among the elect.
Heroes come in many different forms. Some wear special uniforms and perform amazing, public deeds. Most, though, are ordinary and work behind the scenes, often in obscurity. My hero was just five feet tall. He had little formal education and never wore a shirt that stayed buttoned or tucked in. He mispronounced words regularly, loved his coffee and struggled with his anger. He accumulated no net worth and was never found in the pages of Who’s Who in America. He was best known for his love of God, his family and all people. This love was especially pronounced toward Gladys, his wife for almost 63 years. As a missionary, he gave his heart to a forgotten people – Native Americans – for more than 40 years.
He lived in a modest apartment where his life was displayed only in pictures, memories and knickknacks. He left no stuff worth mentioning. He had given it all away years ago.
Dad understood that our lives are but a dot on a line extending into eternity. Yet, like a stone that splashes the water and creates ripples, our lives can make an impact for eternity. A life lived to please God can echo now and forever.
I asked my dad why he chose to leave the security of a middle income life and pursue a life of struggle, difficulties and anonymity among the Native Americans. He said simply, “Eternity is a very long time. I know I can’t take anything with me so I am sending it all ahead.” He lived his life that way. He saw the big picture and wanted to make a big impact. Many thought him foolish and misguided, a man tilting at windmills. I think of him as my dad, my hero.
So I choose to follow his example. He chose greatness by becoming a servant. Like Jesus, he made himself "nothing” (Philippians 2:7). He insisted that Christ and others increase while he willingly decreased. Dad lived a life reserved for those who choose humility, brokenness, weakness and being last. His crown was not earned by self will or achievement, but rather by selflessness, uncompromising obedience and courage. He chose the way of the cross and fought the good fight with the towel of a servant.
As I’ve alluded, Dad was not perfect – none of us are. Yet he was a persistent and consistent hero. What he lacked in perfection he made up for in grace, hope, forgiveness and love – and love is the greatest character quality. Consider the way of my dad, my hero, and imagine the possibilities!
