By SEAN WARDWELL
Former Managing Editor
For those of us who were blessed enough to have known Earl Moseley, we await the promised morning from a long night of weeping. We do not weep for Earl. We weep for ourselves.
In our perfectly understandable and reasonable selfishness, we weep because we won’t hear his laugh, be on the receiving end of his hugs or hear his wise counsel until we pass on to where he is now. We weep over what we have lost — a friend, a mentor and, to many of us, a member of the family we chose, rather than the family into which we were born.
It’s all right that we weep, because the death of a good and brave man deserves tears, especially one as good as Earl. Yet, we cannot, in good conscience, weep for Earl, because there is no reason to feel sorry for him. When Earl left this world, he only took the good with him. He left his pain, his troubles and his worries behind. He left the cancer that ravaged his body for a decade behind. He left chemotherapy, hospitals, doctors, medicine and suffering behind.
Earl now has stepped into the full, healing light of the Lord’s morning, and I am sure he is rejoicing. He sees the light in a way none of us can comprehend or even behold. His faith has become fact. His understanding is completed. His knowledge has expanded beyond human ability. He is with God and Christ. For these things, I cannot feel sorrow. I cannot be selfish and ask for him back. He has his reward. He is home. He earned it.
For the rest of us still awaiting the dawn, we can take comfort in the fact that pain is not all Earl left behind. He left love for us. Can anyone who really knew Earl say that his care for us was temporary? Can we assert that Earl was the kind of person who told you what you wanted to hear, in the hopes of getting you out of his office? Of course not.
Earl was a loving, but direct man. If you did wrong, he was not shy about telling you about it to your face. He would not hesitate, if he saw someone straying from the path, to correct him and get him back on it. He did this out of love, and he did this with love. In fact, I can’t ever remember seeing Earl get angry. Earl was truly his brother’s keeper, and he tended to see everyone as a brother or sister.
Earl left his wise faith with us. He was a true Christian. He was an example on how to lead a Godly life. As sick as he was, I never saw him feel sorry for himself. I never heard him ask God, “Why me?” though I’m sure the thought crossed his mind. Even Christ asked for the cup to be taken from him. Earl would never compare himself with Jesus, but, like Christ, he was given a mission. While it was not as important as saving the world, he did help save a few of us along the way.
I can’t picture the fourth floor of the student center without him. Even though I left Texas State behind, it’s like a piece of its foundation is now gone. The place won’t be the same. He cast a great shadow, and nothing can come close to replacing it, nor should it.
However, I’m sure Earl would want us to continue. He would want us to take care of each other. He would want us to be glad for the lives we have, the gifts we have been given and the blessings which have been bestowed upon us. He would not want us to hide our talents, but to use them to make our respective pieces of the world that much better.
For my friend, my mentor and my teacher, I will do my best to do these things. The night is long, but even now we can see the early rays of dawn. Somewhere in there, I’m sure, we can see Earl smiling down on us too.
Goodbye Earl, and Godspeed.
Sean Wardwell is a former Texas State student and friend of Earl Moseley’s.Email | Print