RECONNECTion #2: Justin Holcomb
I fully expected trying to find some people from my 2000 summer camp team would be like tying to find WMDs, chasing paper trails and false leads, only to come up short by the end of the year. And I guess I also expected some to just fall in my lap, like Justin.
In 2000, Justin was “the” baseball guy; I was just “a” baseball guy whose primary role was camp pastor, but who knew a thing or two about the game. It worked out well for me as I essentially showed up at the baseball group, goofed around with a bat and glove amongst junior high kids, and overall had a blast. I had all of the fun and very little of the responsibility.
Justin, on the other hand, had the fun and the responsibility. He had a unique ability to teach youth, instill truth, have fun, earn respect, shape lives, and get the job done simultaneously. It’s the kind of ability that can’t be taught, like throwing a baseball 60 feet to a target 18 inches wide at 95 miles per hour: you’re either born with it, or you're not.
Perhaps Justin learned these things from his family, who I was able to meet that summer, a caring, warm group of individuals who loved each other; not in an obligatory sort of way, but in an appreciative sort of way. There’s a word for that: beautiful.
To me, Justin was the guy who could throw a Frisbee farther than anyone I knew, who could be loud one minute and insightful the next, and who was head over heels for a girl he wanted to date, but waited an entire year before asking her out.
Yesterday, a series of connections placed Justin in Nashville. Since he was in the flesh in my city, I had to reconnect in person. Justin greeted me with genuine warmth and excitement like I was Tom Hanks coming back from castaway island. Having not spoken or emailed since August of 2000, five years was swept under the rug as he yelled across the room at my arrival. Justin’s way of making everyone feel at home was still as alive as ever.
Working in a church now as a youth pastor specializing in discipleship, Justin is most excited about his church, their eye-catching youth center, and the highlight of his last half-decade, his wife Lisa (whom he only waited about 10 seconds to ask out). He is someone who seeks to brighten lives by brightening days and he still says the most when he listens. This guy reeks of community.
Justin, thanks for yesterday. And tomorrow. And five years from now.
In 2000, Justin was “the” baseball guy; I was just “a” baseball guy whose primary role was camp pastor, but who knew a thing or two about the game. It worked out well for me as I essentially showed up at the baseball group, goofed around with a bat and glove amongst junior high kids, and overall had a blast. I had all of the fun and very little of the responsibility.
Justin, on the other hand, had the fun and the responsibility. He had a unique ability to teach youth, instill truth, have fun, earn respect, shape lives, and get the job done simultaneously. It’s the kind of ability that can’t be taught, like throwing a baseball 60 feet to a target 18 inches wide at 95 miles per hour: you’re either born with it, or you're not.
Perhaps Justin learned these things from his family, who I was able to meet that summer, a caring, warm group of individuals who loved each other; not in an obligatory sort of way, but in an appreciative sort of way. There’s a word for that: beautiful.
To me, Justin was the guy who could throw a Frisbee farther than anyone I knew, who could be loud one minute and insightful the next, and who was head over heels for a girl he wanted to date, but waited an entire year before asking her out.
Yesterday, a series of connections placed Justin in Nashville. Since he was in the flesh in my city, I had to reconnect in person. Justin greeted me with genuine warmth and excitement like I was Tom Hanks coming back from castaway island. Having not spoken or emailed since August of 2000, five years was swept under the rug as he yelled across the room at my arrival. Justin’s way of making everyone feel at home was still as alive as ever.
Working in a church now as a youth pastor specializing in discipleship, Justin is most excited about his church, their eye-catching youth center, and the highlight of his last half-decade, his wife Lisa (whom he only waited about 10 seconds to ask out). He is someone who seeks to brighten lives by brightening days and he still says the most when he listens. This guy reeks of community.
Justin, thanks for yesterday. And tomorrow. And five years from now.
Comments (3)
1:31 PM
nchhhhhshhhshhshhssshhhhh (snore)
Give us the meat, Sammy. Leave the reunions for Classmates.com.
6:05 AM
Sounds like you're just upset because of the WMD reference I made. One day you'll be writing the same things about D Corey and B Duncan.
8:44 AM
Sam... Great stuff my friend. I"m still in Atlanta as I write this in the back office of the Homestead Studio Suites in North Atlanta. I'm hoping that through this unlikely twist of circumstances that I will actually get to see Justin tomorrow and worship with him at his church. If you would have told me last week that I would be in Atlanta and connecting with Justin Holcomb, I would have thought that was impossible. Life is funny how things unfold and the unexpected happens. I'll let you know what transpires.... Big wedding tonight...My first time in my new suit from Jos.A Bank! Oh yea, time to get spiffy! ;) Eddie
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