What a beautiful thing a life can be.  Ken's life was just beautiful.  He never complained.  He was always satisfied with whatever he had.  I only remember one time in fifty-seven years that he said he wanted something.  A coat that he could wear when he wasn't in uniform.  (We were living in Virginia and it was very cold.)

He didn't see himself as anything special.  Everyone else did, but he would just say, "Well, I guess I've got them fooled."

He taught a Bible class for over forty years.  The last few months he was alive he would use every last ounce of his strength to get up for church.  "I want to go to church," he would say.  He loved the men he had taught.  He truly loved God.

When he was flying, he spent hours before a flight plotting vectors and flight plans to get to his assigned target.  You couldn't do your job if you didn't know how to get where you were supposed to go.  You needed to plan and design the unchartered flight path.

One of the last things he said before he died was, "I don't know exactly how I'm going to get there."  He knew where he was going, he just didn't know the flight path.  

John 14: 2-3b, 4,6a "In my Father's house are many mansions….I go to prepare a place for you.  and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there you may be also.  And where I go, you know, and the way you know… Jesus said to him, I am the way…"

Ken knew the "Way", Jesus.  He was just wondering about the flight plan, "How you get from here, to there." Aren't we all!!!  That's faith.  He lived his life on faith.  My privilege was to live my life with him.