In my life

and ministry, I have received a few honors, awards, and accolades over

the years. Since the listing of them would appear self-serving and cause

me to be thought a braggart, I will pass on the temptation to list a few

of them. However, I do want to share about one of the most significant

honors I have received in quite a number of years. But first, some background

material:

Last Wednesday

morning, I got up at around 6 a.m. and put in a full day. I was preparing

to go to bed that night when, just before midnight, the telephone rang.

A church member was calling to alert me about a medical situation and

I immediately left for the hospital in the northern part of Atlanta. I

arrived at the hospital about 1 a.m. and, at about 10 a.m. on Thursday,

I left the hospital for home. I did get about an hour and a half of sleep

(I dozed off in a chair at 3:30 p.m.) but awakened at 5 p.m. to prepare

for an event which I had no intention of missing.

At a few minutes

before 7 p.m., I wearily pulled into the parking lot of Community Christian

School, which meets in a Baptist church in Morrow, just in time to attend

the kindergarten graduation of one Anthony Thomson, Jr., also known as

A.J. I attended the kindergarten graduations of my three sons, if memory

serves me correctly, but have not made a habit of being present at such

events as a routine matter. But this graduation was different.

A couple of

years ago, A.J.'s father, Anthony, Sr., was away from his family for almost

a year serving on active duty with peacekeeping forces in Bosnia. A.J.'s

dad is a Georgia National Guardsman. After his stint in that sad nation,

Specialist Thomson returned to his home, his wife and two children, his

job, and his church. Then the war with Iraq intruded once again. The 190th

Military Police Company was activated and sent to Ft. Benning in preparation

for deployment to Iraq. A.J.'s father, once again, was called upon to

serve and, once again, the good soldier answered the call to duty.

But this time

was different. A.J., who had been protected somewhat from the situation

in Bosnia, could not escape the images of war that flooded the newspapers,

the television, and the talk at school and in the neighborhood. He took

his dad's leaving very hard. The senior Thomson was faithful to call his

family and to be encouraging so, in time, A.J. adjusted and expressed

great pride in his daddy. But Dad would not be present for his graduation

from kindergarten.

Which was why

I had to be there last Thursday evening, regardless of how long I had

been without sleep. The program that the children presented was uplifting

and absolutely outstanding. The hour passed quickly and, finally, the

50 or 60 kindergartners, in white cap and gown with a blue stole, walked

proudly across the stage, received their diplomas and a handshake, and

passed into the kingdom of first graders. I was busily taking photographs

of A.J., his sister Rebecca (who was moving on up to the fourth grade),

and their mom, Verlinda. Those photographs, by now, are well on their

way to a young father in southern Iraq.

As the service

was closing, the principal called on the parents to come stand at the

foot of the stage with their young ones for a final prayer. It was then

that Verlinda asked me to come with her and stand in for Anthony. When

I offered a gentle protest wondering if such a thing was appropriate ("Who

is that old, bearded, white guy standing with that young woman and her

kids?" I could imagine folks asking), it was Rebecca who calmed my

apprehension by saying, "It's okay. After all, you are Father David."

And that is

how I received one of the greatest honors of my life, standing in for

a faithful soldier serving the cause of freedom far, far from home.

As I laid my

hand on six-year-old A.J., I blessed this young graduate, his sister,

his mother, and especially his dad. I prayed that A.J. would sense how

proud his dad was of him and I prayed that, somehow, he would sense how

heroic, courageous, and honorable is the man he knows as Daddy. And I

prayed that all the mommies and daddies would be kept safe and return

home soon to the spouses and children that love them so very much. And

maybe just maybe this time they will not have to leave again.

[David Epps

is rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church, which meets

at 8 a.m. and 10 a.m. Sundays. The church is located on Ga. Highway 34

between Peachtree City and Newnan. He may be contacted at [email protected]

or at www.CTKCEC.org.]