Doss Thompson

Early this morning my dad finished the race.

Some of the best things about gathering with extended family are the pictures. The stories begin to flow, tears swell, laughter is deep and a consideration of your heritage take residence in the mind.

This is my grandpa Doss Thompson. There is not a date on the photo but he was in the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers during WWI

Unless you are family, you’ve never heard of Doss Thompson. He was my grandfather, my dad’s dad. He died when I was two years old. But in the scope of eternity, Doss Thompson was the father of Clyde Robert Thompson. By the sovereignty of God, God used a man you’ve never heard of to father a man who would take the gospel into towns where few people live and even fewer preachers were humble enough to go.

It was at the age of 9 when that preacher, the son of the man you’ve never heard of, talked to me about my need for a Redeemer. This same preacher did this same duty time after time to countless people you’ve never heard of.

The kind of preacher this preacher wants to be is the kind of preacher who doesn’t think he’s bigger than life. I’m satisfied this week to preach the funeral of a preacher who knew he was not bigger than God.