One of the interesting sub-plots in the memoir about the life of our special-needs son Peter, He Made Us Better: A Story of Faith, Family, Friends (and Football) is the story of Alex Falder. Early in the book I tell how as a little kid, Alex reminded me of the Tasmanian devil in the Bugs Bunny cartoons—a whirlwind of energy, who continuously went spinning from one misadventure to another.

Alex became an elementary school classmate and friend of Peter’s, where his Tasmanian devil ways didn’t go over so well in the classroom. I tell the story where in one instance, he got paddled for giving another kid a “wedgie” in gym class. Later, his mother withdrew him from public school, and sent him to a private Christian school in an attempt to salvage him from all the trouble he was getting into.

About a quarter of a century later, Alex and Peter re-connected. Alex, through God’s gradual healing process, had worked his way through what was later diagnosed as attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), and also some brokenness from family struggles.  Alex returned to our community, first as a pastoral intern, then as the lead pastor of our church, where he and Peter renewed their friendship. Even though Alex was now the senior pastor, the two frequently spent time together.

In the last chapter, I tell about when Peter passed away unexpectedly in November of 2014, Alex—the former ornery, hyperactive little kid who drove both classmates and teachers nuts—delivered Peter’s memorial sermon. And did a beautiful job.

And that’s not all. In an unlikely sort of way, Alex and I became friends too. I’m an officer in our church, and over a period of about eight years, we spent countless hours in his office, various Wabash restaurants and my front porch, working our way through the joys and challenges of church leadership.

At first glance, it was an unlikely friendship. I was literally old enough to be Alex’s dad. I was a layman, he a pastor. I like football and basketball, he likes hunting and fishing. He’s tech savvy, I’m proud of myself for learning how to do email. But we had common ground in the love of God, and the love of Wabash Friends Church. And we worked well together, and complemented each other.

At one of our recent meetings, Alex told me that he was going to be leaving his position with our church to take a staff pastoral position in a large church in Billings, Montana. Part of Alex’s continued healing process was his participation in the Townsend Leadership Program (TLP), a leadership/counseling group model that helps leaders, both secular and spiritual, get to know themselves a lot better and become more effective leaders. Now Alex will be conducting similar groups at his new church to help others to likewise achieve their God-given potential. He has a passion for the power of small groups to bring about meaningful change in individuals, and he will be good at it.

There’s a part of me that will miss Alex, and the way our lives have been intertwined in unlikely ways for decades. But there’s a bigger part of me that understands that this is a good move for him, his wife and family, and also a part of God’s plan for him.

For me, it’s been a fascinating case study in how God can take an at-risk, squirrelly little kid who was headed in the wrong direction, and turn him into a pastor with a passion for helping others deal with the obstacles to achieving God’s will for their lives.

I’ll miss you, my friend, but I know that this is part of God’s will for your life and ministry. Prayers and blessings on you, Tricia, and your whole family.

Peter would be proud of you.