I hear several loud knocks on our churches side entrance door. “Buster is here!” I yell in a sing song voice. Buster came to our church as “the guy in the wheelchair.” But it didn’t take long for our church to see he was much more than the guy in the wheelchair. He was the guy who fist bumped new visitors. He was the guy who asked how you were doing and really wanted to know how you were actually doing. The guy who got my kids Christmas and birthday presents and always prayed for my family. The guy who gave God all the glory and shared his testimony to anyone who would listen.

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