Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Missing my friend . . . Steve Huisman

Two years ago on June 12, Steve Huisman went to be with the Lord. I don't know why his death is heavy on my heart this year, but it just is. I miss my friend. I have so many things to share with him, so much to ask, and I need his honesty.

I miss Steve more than I can say.

Two years ago, I wrote the following note in memory of Steve. I read it again today and it brought tears to my eyes. I want to share it with you all again as a reminder of how important good friends are. If you have a friend like Steve, call that person today and thank them. If you don't, I pray that God will send you one soon.

Sorry to be so melancholy!

Here's the post in honor of my friend:
Steve Huisman.

Most of my readers will not recognize that name, although a few may think they know it.

Steve was a very good friend of mine. In fact, he was one of the best friends I ever had.

Steve died on Monday (June 12, 2006) in a plane crash. He was flying a plane in Florida that encountered some mechinal problems and crash landed on Davis Island. Steve died when the plane hit a home and caught fire. His co-pilot and the one person in the home survived.

I don't want to dwell on how Steve died. I want to describe how he lived.

Steve was a man that seemed at times to operate on an almost visceral level of honesty. He was unafraid to admit exactly how he was feeling and what he thought, especially when those thoughts and feelings pertained to his own spiritual status.

Don't misunderstand me, he was not a negative person. He was just quick to recognize his own fallenness and struggles. And by his honest admission of his fallenness, he elicited from others a confession that often bordered on sacramental.

Steve was my hero.

I would never have completed my Ph.D. if not for Steve Huisman. He was working on a correspondence course when he called me one day. He asked how the dissertation was going, and I confessed that I was struggling and didn't think I'd finished. Oh, my lovely wife was gently prodding me, the members of the dissertation committee were doing their part to help me out, but I just was not motivated.

Steve had a great thought--"Leo, how about we call each other at 6:00 a.m. to update each other on our projects. It will be good for us and provide a source of accountability."

Promptly at 6:00 the next morning, he called me.

For about two years after that my early morning conversations with Steve were opportunities to admit my fears and my failures as well as times to rejoice in milestones and accomplishments. He never judged me when I had a bad day or week. He gently encouraged me to press on. He laughed with me when something funny happend, he celebrated with me when things got done. He walked with me, and by being there he pushed me to finish.

When I graduated with my Ph.D., I neglected to tell him how much his encouragement had meant to me. Two weeks ago he called me here in VA. He was in FL and just wanted to talk. We talked about an hour about our families, our lives, our Lord. We laughed, we kidded each other, we prayed for each other. He told me that he wanted my wife to speak to his wife. As we were passing the phones, I cleared my throat and said, "Steve, I wanted to tell you how much your friendship means to me. You were God's instrument to help me finish my dissertation. I never adequately thanked you for that." I told him all the great things I loved about him--his acceptance, his honesty, his gentleness even when he corrected me or pushed me to discipline, his gut level love for other people that was evident in my life. I sang his praises, I think I embarassed him.

I told him I loved him.

Little did I know it would be the last time we would talk on this earth.

Steve went to be with the Lord in that plane crash Monday, but he left an awful lot of good stuff behind. His life is still having an impact on others even though it has ended. His diligence to serve God and others has left the world a better place. His love for his wife and children have instituted a legacy that will no doubt bear great fruit. His ongoing desire to be the best he could be for God's sake continues to motivate those who knew him to a deeper intimacy with God through Christ.

Steve was not a Bible scholar, but his life exemplified a clear understanding of the biblical call to follow Christ. He was a friend. He was a godly man. I miss him.

God, how I miss him!

I hate this fallen world of ours, but I know that it isn't home. Not completely. It is a way station. None of us are on this earth forever.

I still miss Steve.

41 years is not enough. I only knew him about 13 or so of those years.

He was a tall drink of water, a missionary kid with a love bigger than the world. He was the kind of guy you could trust to watch your most prized possessions. He had my back, he was my mighty and marvelous comrade. He helped me slay dragons and rescue damsels. Now I have to contemplate life without one of my wing men. Steve loved flying only slightly less than he loved God and his family. He loved to be in the air. Someday, I'll look up in the air and see him coming with Christ. It will be the ultimate flight, and it won't surprise me to see Steve acting as the pilot.

Death has invaded my life again. I can't imagine how his wife and children feel. I feel like I've been punched in the stomach, like I've lost something that cannot be replaced. I can almost hear Steve saying "I'll call you in the morning. You're going to make it! Hang in there!"

Thanks Steve, for all you gave us. Thanks to God for sharing Steve with us for 41 years. I'm crying now and feeling like I'm rambling, so maybe I better stop.

Live today like you have no tomorrow. Hug someone special and tell them you love them. Life is fragile, my friends, but God is strong. God is still in control, even though the world seems to spin crazily out of orbit.

Hang in there! With God's help, we're all going to make it!

Thanks for reading!

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I understand (and feel compassion for) your sense of loss. I don't want to dwell on the accident any more than you do, but being a neighbor of the home that burned is something I am keenly aware of.

I live on Davis Island. I've been here for 28 years, in the same building, just one block from the house that was hit by a plane that experienced difficulty taking off.

I was home when the accident happened. I was listening to weather reports (it was hurricane season, and there were storms to the south of our area), when the news was interrupted by details of the crash. At the same time, I heard police sirens. I went outside, and saw that police vehicles already had the south end of our street blocked.

My understanding is that the plane was only off the ground for a few seconds. Indeed, the home that was hit, and which subsequently burned to the ground, was situated right across the street from the airport proper, and just a few hundred feet from the end of the runway. Also, there was no one in the home when the accident occured (except the family pets, which perished in the fire). The family who's home it was, are owners of one of the more popular restaurants on Davis Boulevard, just a few blocks north of the house.

As I mentioned, I've lived here a long time. For many years, while sitting near my living room windows and looking out at the water to the east, I often heard the small private planes overhead. As I listened, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if one hit my home, as my home is also right below the airport's main flight path.

The family had their home rebuilt, free of charge, by a popular TV show (a show I've never seen, but have heard of). It was done at the behest of their many friends in the neighborhood, who contacted the show's producers.

Of course, no TV show, nor any amount of neighborhood good will, can restore life and limb. If only such wishes could really be granted......

(my name is Dana.)

Leo Percer said...

Dana:

Thanks for sharing! I saw the Extreme Makeover show as well, and I am glad that beauty came out of this tragedy. May God bless you and your family!

Unknown said...

Hello,

I was looking online for an old friend of mine and found your. My old friend Steve went to Aviation maintenance school in Waco Texas. We graduated in 1986. His family lived in longview Texas and were missionaries who served in pau pau new ghennie. I'm Sue that isn't spelled correctly. Is this the same Steve?

Sincerely,

Patrick Wuttur

Leo Percer said...

Patrick, it sounds like the same Steve. If you'd like to contact me for more info, use this e-mail address: brobubbap@yahoo.com. Blessings!

Unknown said...

Hi Everyone,

Don't ask me why but I have this NUDGE to post here. I am a friend of Steve Huisman's family for many years. All that you said about Steve here is TRUE. I went to school with his sister. She was/is my best friend.

I just became friends again on yahoo with his sister. I found her recently.

More tragedy for the family. Steve and Michelle's mother, "Berta" has just passed away TODAY of cancer. I can't stop crying today.

I am sure that Berta and Steve are in heaven and having a good catch up. On the other hand, I am worried for Mr Huisman as he so loved his wife. They were lovebirds to the end. Mr Huisman was our high school teacher. He was a tall drink of water just like Steve.

I just thought if many of us that know the family can gather together and send prayers and love to the rest of the family... it would be good. I know Michelle will be taking this very hard.

Peace to all... and I will never ever forget the whole family as long as I live either.... THEY DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN THIS WORLD.

Sincerely,
Nanster