The view from the room in ICU was a dreary, rainy day. My best friend lay on the bed, medication tubes connected to his body. A ventilator was helping him breathe. We had gathered this final time to say good-bye and to let him go.
I met Mark and Barbara almost 30 years ago. They visited the Vineyard Church at which I was on staff. It was clear from the moment we met that he was a very talented man with a lot of personality. Within a short time, he was also on staff as our church administrator. He also volunteered to run sound for our worship team on Sundays, lead a home Bible Study, be a substitute worship leader and occasionally preach on Sunday morning. By the end of our time at the Vineyard, Mark was the worship leader.
As our friendship was starting to grow, Mark and I would butt theological heads. As a fairly young Christian, I had never been taught spiritual formation. My theology was shaped by the basic evangelical gospel of asking Jesus to forgive your sins so you could ultimately go to heaven when you die. The time between those points were spent trying to represent Jesus the best you can by loving him and adhering to his commands with occasional bursts of the Holy Spirit’s power. Therefore, my understanding of leading a church had little theological underpinnings. I was trying to pastor the best I could with the practical advice of the church-growth gurus at the time. Combining this with virtually no character formation in my personal life was leading me toward a catastrophe that would potentially hurt me, my family, and perhaps a lot of people in my church.
At the risk of sounding melodramatic, Mark was instrumental in saving my life from professional ministry. It wasn’t that professional ministry is bad. Rather, the way I was doing it was destructive for me and my family. I didn’t realize much of this until after a severe episode of burnout. Following that time, I discovered that Mark had been praying that God would intervene in my life, which he obviously did.
Following that time, Mark became instrumental in my new journey of spiritual formation. We shared books and articles with each other. He listened and encouraged. He became my most enthusiastic supporter as I tried to follow Jesus. It’s during these years that Mark and I would grow into the closest of friends.
Things took a turn for us at the Vineyard and in 2003, Mark’s family and my family left the church. We started a home church together with other friends in Mark and Barbara’s home. Our goal was to experience a community following Jesus into his character and power without the trappings of the consumerist form of the evangelical church. In some ways we succeeded. And in some ways we failed.
As we led this community, we also began exploring Eastern Orthodox Christianity. And in January 2009, Mark and Barbara, Debbie and me, and our kids were received into the Eastern Orthodox Church.
Even though our house church gave way to life in our new church family, Mark and Barbara continued to meet regularly with Debbie and me and a few other friends. Our families had shared life together for years and we envisioned we would do so the rest of our lives.
Then in October 2015, Mark and Barbara broke the news to us that they were leaving California. Debbie and I were happy for them, but crushed at no longer being geographically close to our dearest friends. We had shared and experienced so much together during the past 20 years.
In September 2016, Debbie and I watched our dearest friends drive away to start a new phase of their life. We were able to continue our friendship through annual visits, emails, and texts. Mark and I shared books, articles, and videos with each other, growing together in living as Jesus’ apprentices in God’s kingdom. And starting a few months ago, Mark, Barbara, Debbie, and I started meeting weekly via FaceTime.
In addition to supporting me in my spiritual formation. Mark also introduced me to his love of photography. He gave me my first DSLR camera. Photography soon became a spiritual discipline in my formation. It taught me to slow down and to look. I began to see things I would normally rush by to get somewhere or do something. I began to see the beauty in the mundane, the extraordinary in the ordinary. As my photographic skills matured over the years, Mark was again an enthusiastic supporter. He would post encouraging comments on my Instagram posts. In fact his last comment to me just days before being admitted to the ICU was:
“Ahhh. So good to see you shooting. These are really lovely. Like peace to my heart.”
Mark was such a talented man. He was a singer, musician, sound engineer, landscapist, photographer, video creator, and a web and graphic designer to name a few skills. And he was so enthusiastic about life. He loved life. He loved people. And most of all he loved Jesus.
Even in the midst of his own longterm suffering.
During our time at the Vineyard, Mark’s rare form of muscular dystrophy began to manifest. It became difficult for him to climb the two or three steps of the church stage. Over our thirty years of friendship, we watched him go from struggling to walk to needing a walker and power chair for mobility. The disease slowly took away many of the things he loved. As his muscles became increasingly weaker, he had to stop driving. He could no longer take photos. He had to stop cooking. And through it all, Mark kept learning to yield his life to Jesus. Jesus once said:
“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
Matthew 16:24
Mark showed all of us how to do this as his disease forced him again and again to let go, to die to himself, to carry his instrument of death, and to lovingly follow Jesus.
In times like these, it’s easy to put someone on a pedestal and portray them with virtually no flaws. Mark had his flaws. He made mistakes and carried regrets as long as I’ve known him. He was a passionate man. He had his anxieties and worries. But that was the beauty of Mark’s faith in Jesus. He brought every bit of who he was to Jesus. He trusted him to be the God of second, third and fourth chances. He wasn’t afraid to carry his mistakes, regrets, anxieties, fears, brokenness, and sin to Jesus. As he did so, he experienced transformation.
During the past couple of years, Mark experienced what he called a “renaissance” in his life with Jesus. He was experiencing God’s presence in fresh and powerful ways. Things that had been plaguing him most of his life were being replaced with deeper love, joy and peace.
Debbie and I visited Mark and Barbara in October 2025. Mark had been experiencing intestinal and stomach discomfort since August. The pain got worse through the holidays. A biopsy in February showed he had stage 4 colon cancer. His muscular dystrophy complicated matters since the doctors needed to figure out a course of treatment that wouldn’t worsen the impact of Mark’s MD. They settled on immunotherapy and Mark had his first treatment in early March. He seemed well after the treatment, experiencing only minor side effects.
Then he caught a severe cold that lasted over two weeks.
Mark went in for his second immunotherapy treatment on March 30. Things were fine with him after the treatment. On March 31, he texted me saying the pain level was down by about 75%. He also said that once Debbie and I returned from a trip in late April, he would love to resume our weekly FaceTime meetings together. On April 3, he shared a sermon on YouTube by one of our favorite theologians. He also commented encouragement on some photos I posted in Instagram.
Around 3:30am on April 6, I was awakened by a phone call. My oldest son called to see if I saw Barbara’s Facebook post requesting prayer for Mark. Mark was admitted to the ER due to difficulty breathing. Doctors discovered blood clots in his lungs and extremely low blood pressure. He was admitted to ICU that day. The following day, Mark consented to a ventilator to help him breathe.
The next several days became a rollercoaster ride. Doctors would provide an optimistic report based on labs. But then Mark’s condition would worsen. Up and down. They discovered blood clots in Mark’s legs. And they determined that the cold Mark hadn’t fully recovered from had created a mild bacteria that was aspirated into his lungs. The bacteria caused sepsis that Mark’s body couldn’t fight. By Friday, they determined that Mark’s kidneys were no longer working and he was in multi-system organ failure.
Debbie and I booked tickets and flew out to be with them on Saturday.
On Sunday afternoon, Barbara, Jennifer, Zack, Marie, Jeanne, Debbie and I gathered around Mark. Mark and Barbara’s pastor, Pastor Trevor, prayed over Mark. Then the medical staff removed the ventilator and turned off the medicine pumps and monitors. The loud noises from the medical equipment were replaced by soft sobbing as Mark peacefully slipped from his broken body and into Jesus’ loving arms.
Barbara had forwarded an email Mark sent to her back in January when he knew something was wrong with his intestines. Here’s what he wrote:
“Now in regards to my wishes upon my entrance into the glorious kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, I have very few wishes. That is mostly because I believe myself to be “a ceaseless spiritual being with an eternal destiny in God’s great universe” and as such, I won’t care what ever happens to my physical prescience… I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am loved by an amazing woman, by amazing children and have the best friends a man could ever ask for. My life has been blessed so far beyond anything I deserved and what waits for me now is beyond anything I can imagine, and I have a very vivid imagination.”
I am so thankful to God that he allowed me to be Mark’s friend. Mark faithfully bore the image of God and followed Jesus as his apprentice. And I and my family have been blessed over and over again by Mark’s unique Christlikeness in love, joy, generosity, and passion.
In those final moments in the ICU, it’s easy to only see the dreary, rainy day and hear the quiet sobbing at Mark’s death.
But Sunday was also Pascha! It’s the day celebrating Jesus’ cosmos-altering victory over evil and death, at which Eastern Orthodox Christians exuberantly sing:
“Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death!
And upon those in the tomb, bestowing life!”
At the news of Mark’s passing, a friend of ours wrote:
“A great light of joy and love has gone out of the world and I can only feel pain for my loss.”
So true. Our friend is gone from us. And right now, all I feel is that deep pain of loss. Everything reminds me of him. Earlier this morning, I noticed in my texting app that his avatar is moving further and further down the list of conversations. And it makes me sad. And I cry again.
But there is joy in the sadness. Mark has left us and entered into the next phase of his eternal life in God’s great universe. He has been welcomed into and embraced by the arms of his Lord, whom he has loved all of his life. And he hears the words he’s longed for, “Welcome home, Mark, my good and faithful servant.”
And because of Jesus, Mark is more alive, more whole, more Mark, than he’s ever been. And he waits for us to join him one day as we all experience our eternal destiny in God’s great universe.
So goodbye, my dear friend… for now.





