Humor • Honesty • Heart

Tom Roth… my best friend.

Dugout Canoe on the Rio Coco

But then I pause. And if I’m honest with myself, I suspect there are more than a few people who would also claim that title for him. This man—this firefighter, this brother in Christ, this husband, father, and grandfather—collected “best friends” the way some collect challenge coins. So yes—he was my best, and certainly one of my top three best friends of all time. And so I ask: What makes a best friend?

I met Tom in 1986—forty years ago. I’ve known no other man longer, nor done more adventures with any other man than with this man. Maybe that’s one definition of a best friend: the one who says “Yes” to life with you.

Among those adventures were two backpacking trips—one with his sons, Ryan and Aaron, along with Jon & Nathaniel Parsons. It should probably rank as one of the worst youth backpack trips ever attempted. Jefferson Park in the rain. Mud everywhere. Adults carrying gear for the youth. Youth carrying who-knows-what mentally. The trip was a circus of wet socks, soggy Pop-Tarts, and questionable decision making.

Now, memories are funny things. If I polled the boys, they might remember it differently. But three of them were still youth—so we can safely discount their testimony. (Kidding… mostly.)

What I remember is Tom handling that trip in classic Tom fashion: calm, determined, and with a plan. And afterward—laughter. Lots of it.

There were a couple of years when life pulled us in different directions, but around 2010 something shifted. Bible studies. “Greek Coffee.” A student of Scripture. A student of the Greek New Testament. A brilliant mind. A pondering mind. A man who loved great dialogue. We could talk. We could disagree (rarely). We could challenge one another. We were “iron sharpening iron.” We each took turns being the other’s Timothy.

~ Splangkna ~

Then came Mike Mellison, and later Jim Krieg. Suddenly I found myself with Tolkien and Lewis while I was more like the silent hobbit scribbling notes. Still, there were frequent times when Jim and I would catch each other’s eyes and smile as Tom and Mike dove down some Greek rabbit trail—sometimes tangent, always interesting, never argumentative.

It was brotherhood. Brothers in Christ discussing Scripture the way I believe Christ intended: humbly, curiously, joyfully. We are not God. He is. What is He saying?—that was Greek Coffee.

When the news of Tom’s death came, we already had Greek Coffee on the calendar. That day—and ever since—we’ve met in a Missing Man Formation. We told stories. We laughed. We wept. We remembered. And the only Greek we managed that morning was one word: σπλάγχνον—deep affection.

Paul said Christ had σπλάγχνον in Philippians 1:8. Colossians 3:12 says, “Put on σπλάγχνον”—compassion, tender mercy, “bowels of mercy” if you prefer the King James (Tom preferred this rendering). There are four other virtues listed in that passage, but I suspect they all fit inside that single word.

Luke 15:20 says the father of the prodigal had σπλάγχνον—and ran to his son. 1 John 3:17 warns against shutting up the σπλάγχνον—closing compassion when we have enough and see another in need. Tom never shut off σπλάγχνον.

Catchers Gear for the Mayor

He saw need. He saw children. He saw brothers. He saw mission. Nicaragua, Diriamba, Waspam, Krinkrin… and finally Ukraine—every location soaked in σπλάγχνον.

When Karen and I traveled to Vallarta for three months, it was Tom who drove down and served for two weeks—helping to build a women’s shelter, helping launch Xolos Baseball. A couple years later, it was my turn to travel to Nicaragua with Tom. Xolos Baseball, round two. And though Nicaragua knows baseball—note the honor given to Roberto Clemente—the Waspam and the Miskito Indians had never seen anything quite like our camp. Tom’s σπλάγχνον once again was revealed as he quietly served, supported, and encouraged... And in the years since, Tom and Julie have continued to be among the greatest supporters of Xolos Baseball. Why? σπλάγχνον.

Kisalaya Swing Set ~ Kids LOVED it!

The ministry in Nicaragua went far beyond baseball. There were Legos for the kids (thanks, Julie). Heavy-duty chain, hardware, seats, and finally lumber to build an incredible swing set. The joy—oh the joy—of watching children soar through the rain on those swings, refusing to come down even as the heavens opened. That was σπλάγχνον with a smile. Add to that a trip down the Rio Coco, a visit with the Lees, and more σπλάγχνον for more children. That was my friend Tom.

~ The art of Kidding Around ~

Around 2017, a different kind of adventure began. We took to the highways of Oregon—often joined by Craig Ellison. Once joined by Aaron. And yes, Julie—cover your ears—we may have tested the land-speed record at a remote Oregon airfield. Someone’s Yamaha may have won. Tom’s Bumblebee—well—let’s just say it brought up the rear with dignity.

On one of those rides we became eight-year-old boys all over again. It was Willowcreek, Oregon... we spent two hours touring an automative dairy farm—smartphones out—no concern for cow privacy—taking pictures like giddy schoolchildren. I’ll never forget Tom laughing that day.

Another time, heading west on US-20 toward 395, Tom was leading. Craig and I turned. Tom didn’t. A few moments later—returning—slowing down—laughing—he said, “I was focused on traffic!” There was no traffic for ten miles in any direction. Just Oregon trying to hide its corners from us :)

Tom... on 'Tom Road' Ha!

During our second week-long trip, I heard him tell strangers at least five times, “I’ve lived in Oregon sixty-two years, but with this guy I’ve seen more in the last two years than in the first sixty.” Thank you, brother, for saying yes. Even there—σπλάγχνον rode with us.

We dreamed about Ukraine—youth camps, prisons, discipleship—never made it there together, but the desire was there. The σπλάγχνον was there. He was simply a vessel ready to be poured out.

Julie… Aaron… Ryan… grandkids… family… Tom… Your husband… your dad… your grandfather… he was a man of σπλάγχνον.

Tom—my brother—I miss you. I hope the Father has prepared a Bumblebee for you. I’ll show up on a Goldwing when my time comes.

Until then—thank you for being a real-life example of σπλάγχνον. Wherever the road led, you brought σπλάγχνον with you—and into our world.

Forever in our hearts.
—Rick 

 

 This song... Love Now... is a favorite of mine from Steven Curtis Chapman. The chorus, 

"Love fierce, love brave, love first, don't wait, love now" ... Yep... that was Tom :)

 

                                                            For those of you who knew Tom...                                                                      If you wish, please leave any thoughts that you have of Tom in the comments.  

Plus... If you would like to leave a donation for Mercy Projects, for which Tom was ministering along side, please so do with the following link: Mercy Projects 

Grandpa Tom