This past Friday, I drove 300 miles, got a sun burn and threw up several times. It was one of the best days of my life. I have been privileged by God in many ways. The list is too long to recount. One way is definitely in the many amazing friendships which have encouraged, challenged and changed me. For the past 25+ years, two men have long stood on my closest friends’ list. They represent the past, present and future. They are spiritual generations in the flesh. You have them too. Don’t ever forget them.
A few months ago, I got a phone call from Gary Sciascia saying he would be travelling from Phoenix (where he serves as lead evangelist) to Boston for a few days. Subsequently, I heard that Boston elder Wyndham Shaw would also be returning from Europe about the same time. Somehow and some way, the three of us planned and then got together for a half-day fishing trip I will never forget.
Prior to departure, captain Wyndham asked me if either Gary or I had ever been sea-sick. I assured him that I had fished on the White River in Arkansas with my dad as a boy and would be fine. As for Gary, who was not around at the time of the question, I said I knew him to be a little wimpy but thought he might be okay for four or five hours.
Wyndham had chosen the Merrimac River in beautiful Salisbury, Massachusetts, as our departure point. It was a beautiful sunny day . . . but windy (note to reader: remember the windy part; wind causes waves and waves rock the boat). I have greater respect than ever now for Jesus calming the stormy seas (Luke 8:22-25). The winds and the waves obey Jesus but, unfortunately, not me.
We sped over the mighty waves and began to catch several fish almost instantly at our initial destination. We snagged seven or eight mackerel and I was feeling great and ready to return home triumphant. Then Wyndham announced that we were about ready to begin to fish. I asked what we had been doing up to that point. He replied that we now had our bait.
At this point, somewhat out of nowhere and for no particularly good reason, I began chumming the waters. I lost my cookies. I also have greater than ever perspective on that “the dog returning to his vomit” verse (II Peter 2:22).
Also about this time, Wyndham and Gary attempted to act sympathetic, but you could tell that they felt I was about to ruin their much-anticipated fishing trip. For the only time in my life, I felt like Jonah when the other fellas in the boat were about to throw him overboard. Thankfully I looked and smelled pretty disgusting and no one wanted to come my way.
In a somewhat deceptive move, Wyndham began to motor back toward the boat launch site. It was only a ploy, as he stopped well short and baited up his mackerel for the big striper bass challenge.
Gary had not journeyed from Phoenix to the East Coast just to watch a grown man be sick, so he baited up as well. Actually, once your insides are cleared out, you do begin to feel better so I had Wyndham bait me up a pole too (note to reader #2: this “when you are ill get someone else to do it” move sometimes works for me with my wife also if you don’t overuse the strategy, which is my usual downfall).
Pretty soon into casting mackerel, the stripers began to hit. They were ferocious. And we had the time of our lives. I have caught bass in Arkansas, but these would have eaten those guys and their families in one gulp. Wyndham was yelling at Gary about how to hold the dip net. Wyndham was untangling my line from Gary’s. Wyndham was steering the boat and taking the fish off the hooks. Okay, Wyndham was pretty much doing everything. Gary was laughing and reminiscing . . . and then, I threw up again.
All in all, it was a memorable day.
For over 25 years, Wyndham has been a primary mentor and older brother to me. For over 25 years, Gary, that college guy the Lord bumped me into at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, has been the most loyal younger brother and friend a man could ever have. And for a day, I got to travel back in time to when the three of us had a dream to see a church grow in North Carolina and then around the world.
For me, the day was not really about the waves or the fish. First, time stood still. Then, it went back and finally it flashed forward. This was a day about friendship. I will probably not have many special times like this again in this 
same threesome this side of heaven. But the generations were represented in a way that only God could have put together. One man (or woman) pours his life into another, and he into another, and he into another. It is more than just a plan or a program. It is the greatest adventure ever. It is hearts uniting. It is spiritual warfare of the highest order. And today I stand very inspired looking back and looking ahead while living out today with people I love.
A few years back, several women who had been members of the Hartford church and moved away to get married off or to look for men to get married off to, came back to Hartford for a “get away,” reunion weekend. They just hung out for three days doing whatever it is women do together (probably not bobbing up and down and getting sick). At the time, I thought it interesting, maybe even odd. I think that no longer.
Here is my challenge to you. Find some of your closest friends who have changed your life. Hang with them, even if it takes a long drive or plane flight. Recommit yourself to them and to the dream you signed up for years ago. Make some memories and be inspired to keep friendship and God’s dream going for all of eternity.
Jimmy Allen