<a target="_blank" href="https://www.buzzsprout.com/twilio/text_messages/1779779/open_sms">Send us a text</a>I loved the summer days of my youth. The long, sun-drenched days in the Georgia outback were filled with heat, adventure, and endless fun as I explored and expanded my world.That expansion came each summer when a kid from Chicago visited his grandmother next door. His name was Mark Lawson, and I was in awe—not just of his accent, but of the details he shared about life in a city I had only dreamed and read about.My questions were endless: What was it like to ride the L train? Was the Sears Tower really that tall? Had he been to Wrigley Field or Comiskey Park? Did you really have to go to school when it snowed?Mark was always gracious, never tiring of my curiosity. He answered every one of my nerdy questions, helping me see a world beyond my own.After his father passed away, Mark and his mother moved to Georgia, building a house next door to ours. By then, I was a few years older, and with Mark no longer just a summer visitor, my curiosity waned. The questions stopped, and we grew apart.Life took us in different directions. My path was marked by education, travel, and work that eventually led me to Chicago, where I finally experienced all the wonders Mark once told me about—the L train, the Sears Tower, Wrigley Field, Comiskey Park, and even the snow.Galatians 6:9 reminds us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap.  About two weeks ago Mark went home to be with the Lord. Some may look at his life and question his legacy, seeing it as less than remarkable. But I do not. For in his own way and in his own time Mark did good, he might have gotten older as we all have but did not grow weary of doing good.Our conversations—whether as kids marveling at Chicago or as adults navigating life’s deeper questions—were always good. He answered my adult questions honestly, offering insights on faith, family, loss, addiction, prison, sports, and unrealized potential.Mark made his mark on me.And for that, I will be forever grateful, and I know that in this due season of his death he has reaped the reward of a life that may have been lived differently, but a life spent trying to do good to others.  Looking forward to seeing you again, my friend—this time, during those endless summer days in Heaven.For More Great Content Go To <a href="https://marbenbland.com/">Marben Bland.com </a>

Send us a text I loved the summer days of my youth. The long, sun-drenched days in the Georgia outback were filled with heat, adventure, and endless fun as I explored and expanded my world. That expansion came each summer when a kid from Chicago visited his grandmother next door. His name was Mark Lawson, and I was in awe—not just of his accent, but of the details he shared about life in a city I had only dreamed and read about. My questions were endless: What was it like to ride the L train?...

He Made His Mark On Me