The story goes that a woman once approached George Whitefield after one of his sermons and said something to the tune of, “Now, I enjoy your sermons as much as the next person, but why must you always keep on saying, ‘Ye must be born again!’?” Without skipping a beat, Whitefield looked the woman in the eyes and thundered: “Because ye must be born again!”

No sooner had I learned that my wife and I were expecting a son, than did another revelation flit across my mind: “I’m having a boy... I’m having a son!—Hmm, I really need to get back into shape.

Eight years ago to this very day, February the 3rd, my family said So long to the dearest man in all the world.