My closest friends know several things about me.  I love strong coffee.  I love to hunt bear.  And I love Billy Graham and his ministry.  April 15, 2005 was one of the greatest days of my life because I was blessed to spend 3 hours with my hero, Dr. Graham, in the living room of his home in North Carolina.

I have also been blessed to develop a friendship with his grandson, Wil.  We share common interests (guns, hunting, and the outdoors, not to mention preaching and evangelism).  We see each other infrequently, but when we do, it is a great time for me to be encouraged by his disposition, genuine care for people, and honest humility.

He and I shared a meal together this past Saturday evening on our way to an event at Mars Hill College where I was preaching.  I was initially surprised that he would have the time to even eat, but when he said he wanted to go to the event to hear me preach and support me, I was felt like a middle school quarterback playing while Tom Brady watched from the stands.

It was a fantastic night.  There were 206 first time public proffessions of faith and another 30 or more that surrendered to the ministry.  Over 1,500 people gathered with over 40 different churches involved in planning the event.  But the thing I will most likely remember about Saturday night was the genuine humility that Wil Graham showed.

When we arrived, he volunteered to drive my truck around back and park it.  Then after the event, he took my keys and brought the truck back around so I would not have to walk in the cold.  Backstage, after we prayed together, I stood up to go to the restroom.  He grabbed my Bible and my bottle of water and went with me to make sure if I needed anything, he could take care of it.  He said he wanted me to concentrate on preaching and he would take care of anything I needed.

And then, as if all of that was not enough, I was standing by my truck at 9:30 PM talking to a friend before we left, and it was blistering cold.  I rolled down my sleeves and stuck my hands in my pockets.  I guess he could tell I was cold, because the next thing I know, he had grabbed my wool coat from the backseat of my truck and held it for me while I slid it over my cold arms.

This young man has every right to expect people to serve him.  He is a busy, sought after, annointed preacher of the gospel.  He is the son of Franklin Graham (who runs not only Billy Graham’s ministry but also Samaritan’s Purse).  And he is the grandson of Billy Graham, the most recognized face on earth over the past 50 years and most admired and respected minister in history.  Yet instead of the stereo-typical arrogance or aloofness that I have occasionally seen among well-known ministers or rock stars of our evangelical culture, he was simply a servant.  I should have been carrying his water bottle.

I could not help but think to myself…he inherited this genuine humility from a grandfather who learned it from Jesus.  I drove home Saturday night praying that I could be more like Wil Graham, because he was more like Jesus than most people I have ever met.

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