In 2003 I moved home to Seattle after living in New Orleans for 17 months.  The only church I knew about was University Presbyterian and so that is where I began attending what was then called “Tuesday Night Worship.”  We typically had a man named James B. Notkin as the host speaker, but every once in awhile a guest would deliver the message.  It was on one such Tuesday evening that I heard an excellent young pastor named David Lutz.  

Some weeks later I met Dave at either the Sea Tac or the San Diego Airport, I can not remember which.  I had signed up to be a part of a house building team to Mexico as a four day mission from our small body of attendees, and Dave had also.  I had wanted to meet him, to tell him what an excellent job he’d done, and this was my opportunity.  We soon began talking about other things, forming the early semblances of a bond.  After getting to Tijuana we were divided into teams and I was on the same team as Dave.  We have been friends ever since.

I have known Dave for ten years now and we have seen a lot of the other’s story as it happened.  He is the kind of friend who will gladly put himself in an uncomfortable situation in order to help you out.  A good listener, Dave will find the untruth of a story quickly and help in the discerning of the falsehood’s origin.  His wisdom has been resource time and again.  Now that I am home, I hope we can find our rhythm as good friends once more.  I am honored to call him friend.