I made a particular point to arise early enough to join others, saying goodbye to a nearly lifelong friend. Charles Dean Russell. For those who believe, it’s not goodbye, merely so long.
Sitting and watching online, my heart is with my long-ago friends and family. My heart weeps, but my spirit rejoices.
Just a few notes about the celebration.
- Sam Cooper did a great job reminiscing about Charles and sharing his personality. He nailed it! Charles was always a positive friend. No more sea… Loved it.
- I rejoice that he enjoyed his last mission trip, baptizing over 100 people on his last day.
- Tyler Walea, thank you for sharing. It was just like Charles to connect like that. I appreciate the song. Down from His Glory! You’re Gonna Make It!
- Missionary Joseph Bir… You are welcome to share your heart with us. 37 years in Peru! Charles had a message. Romans 8:14, John 14:12. His last act of ministry was in Espinar, Peru. (My insight, “The Last Wave Off.”)
- Harold Hoffman, thank you for sharing. It was time. Enoch was not.
- Sing, Shout, Over Yonder! (Life Tabernacle Youth Choir from back in the day.)
- Ken Gurley… my brother. He always speaks deeply into my heart with his ability to summarize it. “Sudden death is sudden glory.” ~Spurgeon
When you are new to a church, you look for opportunities to connect, especially as a teenager facing those awkward times of growing and seeking acceptance. Our new pastor (to us) was James Kilgore, circa 1968-69. The church was big, and there was a vibrant youth community. Though we lived nearly 20 miles from the location, much time was spent at the church and on missions/choir trips.
For a teen with the last name of “Gurley,” it was common to be poked in fun and jest. But not here. We found lifelong friendships and connections.
Charles Russell was almost 6 months younger than me, with a great singing voice and a friendly face. I was surprised that he became a Police officer in Houston. But if you are always looking for an opportunity to serve, then that makes sense. Later in life, he was a chaplain for many lives who faced struggles in hospitals and hospice care.
When dating, my future bride, Brenda, and I visited Charles in the hospital after his life-threatening accident. He was recovering, and his focus on the TV was a little distracting. 45 years later, he approached us at Mom and Dad’s 65th marriage celebration. Charles apologized for that time. This was just like Charles. He knew.
That was the key to Charles. He knew. His knowledge of many subjects was vast. He was a reader, thinker, and praying person who loved the Word and shared it with everyone—anyone who would listen. There is not one single time that I did not have a revelation from something he shared. He didn’t expect agreement. Rather, I think he looked for the opportunity to knock off the rough edges of his knowledge with iron that sharpens the iron of knowledge.
My last meal with Charles was last year on a trip through Texas. He, who was never at a loss for words, shared how much he loved our family. An adopted brother, the missing son, stepped in to provide cover for my mother. With her youngest child, my sister Teresa, and her husband, my Dad, gone, Charles was the one we depended on. I hope he knew how much we loved him. He gave her flowers on their anniversary date, swung by to change a flat tire, and when it was more than he could handle, he paid some groundskeepers to finish the job. This was Charles. My brother. My friend.
Here’s a link to the memorial service where Charles Dean Russell was celebrated.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDNR0hZC4MM
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