And I heard a voice from heaven, saying, "Write, 'Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on!'" "Yes," says the Spirit, "so that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow with them (Revelation 14:13).

This last weekend after worship, it was my turn to work at the Member HUB (place to sign up for workshops or get information about upcoming events). A couple stopped by the HUB and inquired, “You are Dottie Schulz, aren’t you?” “Yes,” I replied. They then proceeded to tell me how much my husband, Tom, had meant to their three children, who had attended York College and had studied under Tom. How special it is to still hear good things about my husband. Lately there have been several such occasions.


Just recently, a former York College student from Chicago was visiting friends in Frisco, Texas, heard from his friends that I now work at Missions Resource Network and drove all the way over to the office with his youngest child just to tell me face-to-face how much my husband had meant to him. Before he left the office, he said, “I’m headed for Zambia and it’s because of his influence.” Last month another former student, who spent years in Europe, asked to be my friend on Facebook. He wrote on my Wall that he went to the last York College Homecoming just to find me so he could tell me personally how much Tom meant to him and how great his influence had been in his life. The Winter 2008 issue of Heritage Magazine from York College featured an article about Brian Kohlsheen, former York College student and former YC baseball coach. Brian left York to become a Scout for the Atlanta Braves and is best known for recruiting Kerry Ligtenberg and Adam LaRoche for the Braves. In 2000, Brian became the Regional Manager of the Phillies. Brian came to York on a baseball scholarship. He was in Tom's Bible classes and had lots of questions, which he said Tom patiently answered. I don't remember who baptized Brian, but I know Tom baptized a lot of students.



Max Lucado told part of Tom's story of his last day on earth (anonymously in one paragraph) in his book, 3:16, and then honored Tom in the last sermon he preached at the Richland Hills Church,, and though Max got part of the story a bit wrong, you can imagine how special it was to have Tom honored in this way.


But the story doesn’t end there. Every time our family gets together, our children talk about their “Papa.” This last Christmas our youngest daughter and her husband, a graphic artist, gave everyone in the family a special gift, a one page, 24 by 18 inch calendar. The calendar paper is black and all the printing is in white. At the top of the calendar are the words, “It's just as we feared. It’s another day.” Those were words Tom spoke to me every morning of the world when he would come into our bedroom to awaken me and to give his sleepy-head wife a strong cup of hot, black coffee. Underneath those words are three small pictures of Tom, copied from black and white glossy pictures, taken by one of his students for an art project, that I recently rediscovered in a folder in his file cabinet. I scanned the pictures and emailed them as attachments to all the children. Below the pictures of Tom is a 12 month calendar and at the bottom of the calendar is written, “In loving memory of Papa.” Such a special gift to all of us and so appreciated by all of us!

What was it about Tom? For one, he loved God. He loved God's word and he was obedient to that word, no matter the cost. He truly cared for people. He listened a lot and spoke little. He would state his opinion, but never tried to force his will onto others. He went the extra mile. He was a man who knew how to work without complaint. After his left arm was eaten away by cancer, he still worked in the garden and together we cut wood and hauled it home in the pick-up. It was his attitude. If something unpleasant needed to be done, from confronting someone about their sin to helping someone butcher a hog, no one would have ever known he thought it was unpleasant. Shopping was not his favorite activity, but he would go shopping with his family and be cheerful about it. He didn’t always like to attend social functions, but he would go and no one would ever suspect that he didn’t want to be there. He could be dead tired and want desperately just to be alone, but if the door bell rang and someone needed to talk, no one was more welcoming. But the day after Tom learned that there was no more medical help for his condition, he turned to me and said, "Okay, I'm dying. I don't want want you to cook any more brocoli for me." I must have looked shocked. I said, "But you love it. I buy it and fix it just for you," to which he answered, "I have never enjoyed it." Since our return from Holland, I must have cooked brocoli for supper at least once a week. In all the years we were married, I can probably count on one hand any complaint he might have had about something I cooked. After each meal he would get up from the table and hug me from behind, give me a big kiss and thank me for the meal. It was his ritual - like his ritual of waking me with a cup of coffee. The hospice nurse remarked at his funeral that he must have loved me very much because he never complained to me about the amount of pain he was experiencing (though we all knew). Did Tom ever object to anything, you wonder. Yes, he would stand to the death on important matters, so that when he did stand, people stopped and listened. Tom knew he was saved by grace and he believed saved people needed to be grace-filled, gracious people. He certainly showed grace to me. Tom has been with the Lord since January 1, 2000. 'Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on!'" "Yes," says the Spirit, "so that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow with them (Rev. 14:13).


I pray Tom's example encourages you.