“Sooner born and Sooner bred, and when I die I’ll be Sooner dead.”

Paul Dennis died yesterday. And the above line, which is one of his all-time favorites, makes me smile even as I’m typing through the tears.

The first real conversation I had with Paul was in 2007 on a Saturday morning in his living room about an hour after his son had been killed in a terrible car accident. I was the brand new preacher at Legacy–I had only been a preacher, period, for a couple of months–when I received a call at home from somebody at church, telling me that Paul and Jean’s son had been killed. So, I went. And it was horrible. I managed to say a couple of things that I thought sounded spiritual and comforting and I worded some kind of lame prayer, I’m sure. But mostly I just sat there and listened as they cried. I hugged them. I told them I loved them. I tried to act like I had it all together.

We bonded together during that tragedy, that Saturday morning and as we talked and prayed together often in the days and weeks to follow. But that initial bond, forged in disaster and grief, was strengthened for eternity over the next almost five years.

Paul and Jean Dennis sat directly behind us every single Sunday during our time at the Legacy Church. Even now I can still hear Paul’s deep resonating baritone voice singing those church songs into my ears. Into my heart and my soul. He sang with such abandon. He sang with gratitude and joy, he sang with purpose. He had his favorites, and you could tell by the change in volume and gusto from the row right behind us. But he liked all of them.

Paul is a people person. Loud. Boisterous. Full of energy and life. Always joking. Lots of puns. Always laughing and trying to make others laugh.

His love for OU football was complete and as rabid as anything I’ve ever experienced. We argued and joked about his Sooners all the time. He faithfully kept up with every recruiting class, every tweaked knee in a practice, every rumor, every statistic, every down of every game, and all the history. When I put together my Top 20 College Football Poll for this blog in 2008, Paul was the first guy I called to participate. His bias for OU and his hatred of UT came through in his weekly rankings, but it was always done in good fun.

More than all that, I love Paul Dennis for being a personal and continuous encouragement to me while I was preaching at Legacy. I was blessed by God to sit directly in front of Paul and Jean for those five years. Every single Sunday, without exception, during the song before the sermon, Paul would reach over with those massive and strong hands of his, place them on my shoulders, and say something like, “Go get ’em!” or “Preach the Word, brother” or “God bless you, Allan.” Every Sunday. And he wouldn’t leave the building without telling me something about the lesson. Something he learned. Something he needed to hear. A question about a text or a point. A related thought or memory prompted by something I had said. And a “Thank you.” Always a “Thank you.” Paul went out of his way to tell me often that I was doing a good job, usually at the moments when I seriously doubted whether I was. Our gracious God put Paul and Jean directly behind me at that Legacy Church because I needed them. I needed their kindness and generosity. I needed Jean’s sweet spirit and gentle faith. And I needed Paul’s encouragement.

Carrie-Anne and I both cried last night when we heard that Paul had died. We sat on the couch together, remembering Paul’s unmistakable voice and his unwavering faith and his consistent encouragement. Laughing and crying. Thanking God for this faithful servant of his and grateful that we were at the same church at the same time. I am a better preacher and a better Christian because of Paul Dennis.

May our gracious Lord bless Jean with his divine comfort and peace. May our God receive his servant Paul into his faithful arms. And may Paul handle it well on that resurrection day of glory when he learns that OU hats are not allowed in heaven.

Peace,

Allan