An Unclouded Day

In Memory of David Arthur Armour

July 12, 1937-April 28, 2010

Yesterday marked the three year anniversary of the death of someone very dear to me and to countless others.  And I owe it to him to share the ways in which he touched my life.

Three years ago, I was in sixth grade.  Now, what motivated an ignorant, carefree 12 year old girl to go visit a man dying of cancer is what still to this day boggles me.  But I did.  I visited him because I saw something in him that I knew was beyond this world.  It was something more.  And so many times I've tried explaining my story or writing it, and it's absolutely useless.  Because I can't explain what I experienced.

Dr. Armour had been my neighbor and in my church for most of my childhood.  But it wasn't until he started dying that I got to know him.  When I visited him, one thing I will never forget is the life in his eyes.  He was a man dying of cancer, but no part of his eyes were dying.  I saw the most life that I'd ever seen in him.  It was the life of Christ.  And it was so evident and so real.  We had the most amazing conversation of my life.  And though I forget most of what we talked about, there is one thing I won't ever forget.

At one point he stopped and looked at me and asked, "So what made you come visit an old sick guy like me?"

There I was, sitting on the couch with a mug of delicious hot chocolate Mrs. Armour had brought me, my awkward, unknowing, sixth grade self.  And this, I promise you, is all I said, "Because you're a great man who loves Jesus."

At that moment Dr. Armour broke down in whole-hearted, unashamed, sobs.  "That's the best thing anyone has ever said to me".  He replied after his crying (and mine) had died down a bit.

The last time I visited him he was in a hospital bed in his own home, nearing the end of his time on earth.  It was so clear he wanted nothing more than to be with his Savior.  He always told me I was special, that God had amazing plans for my life, and that he loved me very much.

I held to his hand as he surfaced for a brief moment from all the medicine and pain, and he told me goodbye. I never got to tell him how much he meant to me or how much I loved him.  And I can say with certainty that there is not one single day that goes by that I don't think about how special he was or how much I regret not telling him everything I wanted to.

This post is jumbled and probably really confusing.  For that I am sorry, but as I said, I have never been able to find the right words.  And it's really, really hard to write this.

But I want to say thank you.

Thank you, Lord, for the gift of Dr. Armour and for using him in my life and in the lives of others'.

Thank you, Dr. Armour, for being who you were.  And even though I only knew you for a brief time, we were kindred souls, you and I.  And I would not be half the person I am today if it wasn't for you.

I know you're singing in heaven now.

And that the life in your eyes will never be extinguished.

Not even by death.

...Love, Anna...

Psalm 121

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,

From whence cometh my help.

My help comes from the LORD,

Which made heaven and earth.

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved;

He that keepeth thee will not slumber.

Behold, He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is thy keeper:

The LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand.

The sun shall not smite thee by day,

Nor the moon by night.

The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil;

He shall preserve thy soul.

The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in 

From this time forth,

And even for evermore.