08/07/2026
Each week he carries big brown boxes with red bags of biohazardous waste into and out of our office.
But we had no idea what else he was carrying.
His laugh is boisterous and sort of bounces off the walls and fills up all the empty spaces. We hear him before we see him. He swings open the door and joy enters.
Dexter has the uncanny ability to skip right over menial small talk and make you feel like he’s invested in all the little things that matter most. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use words like fine or just alright. Instead, his follow-up sentences sound more like little Sunday sermons.
“Ain’t God good?!” he’ll call out. “What can’t He do??!!”
To which I usually say, “He can’t make your Falcons win on a Sunday!” And out comes that big belly laugh.
Dexter. There ain’t nobody in the world who loves Atlanta sports or Jesus more. And there’s no one we love to see come through our office doors more than Dexter.
But this week was a little different.
When I asked if he had taken his wife on vacation this summer, he got a little quiet. The daycare she works for had to cut back. Dexter felt like he had to step up. Money was too tight.
But that wasn’t the whole story.
I could see it in his eyes as he put down the brown box with the red bag and walked toward us.
That’s when he told us about the cancer.
The treatments we didn’t know about. The hardships carried by such a good, soft, tender man.
And suddenly, all those weeks of hearing his laughter sounded different.
The conversation settled, and sadness almost tried to sneak in. But Dexter noticed. And Dexter did what Dexter does.
He started talking about the marvel of modern medicine and doctors. And Miracles. His miracle.
He wept as he told us his recent scans were clear. He talked about healing, but even more about hope. About a God who hears every prayer, sees every tear, knows every fear, and carries the things that seem too heavy for us to bear on our own.
We wept right along with Dexter.
And in a world that can feel awfully heavy some days, we could all use somebody who walks into the room carrying a little more light than darkness.
The older I get, the more convinced I am that God places people in our path on purpose.
Not always because they need something from us. But because sometimes we need something from them.
Thank you, Dexter.
You probably thought it was just another ordinary day of dropping brown boxes with red bags.
But you left us with something we desperately needed to keep.
Hope. Faith. Love.
Dexter will be back soon. We’ll hear him before we see him. That big laugh bouncing off the walls. The door will swing open, joy will enter, and Dexter will ask us the same question he always does.
Only now, I think we’ll hear it a little differently.
Ain’t God good?
Yep, He sure is.🙌🏼🙏🏽❤️
