Pastor Billy Joe Daugherty: Hero of Faith

The first time my family attended Victory was the Easter Passion Play 2008, a little over a year and a half ago. We were in the throws of transition with our family as our now son, "Ian," had only been with us a few months. This was one of the most difficult seasons of my personal life.

The Easter production was amazing and the facilities were breath-taking. However, what impressed me was the spirit of humility within which these things were present. Grandeur in the midst of a contrite spirit and extreme diversity, very much as I would envision the Kingdom of God. We felt at home.

Upon returning in the weeks ahead we came to understand that the heart of all this was born in Pastor Billy Joe Daugherty. His great vision and unstoppable faith were poised on the foundation of humility and heart holding sincerity.

That's what I felt as I listened to him in anticipation and deep admiration. That's what I knew as he looked into my soul every time he greeted me as a friend. I loved him. To stand next to him was to stand in the undeniable presence of my Jesus. His presence was sweet, sincere, strong, affirming, loving. I took every opportunity to run into him and shake his hand, although often I held back for fear that he would figure me out or think I was strange. Oh how I adored him. He was, and is my Hero of Faith.

In the weeks to come I learned more of this great man of God. Pastor Billy Joe did not depend on banks to bring his visions alive. He depended on God. Every ministry and building of Victory was paid for. Story after story of faith, belief, and provision were his. In quiet faith he and Sharron believed God for property in the inner city where they could minister and it was given to him within days. This property now holds the Dream Center where families can get food, aid, and medical attention for free. Again, believing for lakefront property with roads and electricity where impoverished children could go to camp, he received it for free, and is now the home of Camp Victory. He depended on God to finance the desires of his heart. He stood in faith, asking for the impossible, and the impossible bowed down to God time after time. Pastor, through many faithful at Victory, reached over a thousand inner city children and their families a week with groceries and the love of Christ through Mobile Kids Club. Pastor set up hundreds of Bible Institutes around the world that were and are the training ground for thousands and thousands of men and women of God. After the Iron Curtain fell Pastor Billy Joe went to Russia 18 months in a row and reaped thousands upon thousands of souls with the love of Christ. Shortly before his first trip to Russia Pastor sat with his family on the side of the road as they watched their house burn to the ground. He had gone into the flames twice to save his two youngest children. As they sat he shared how nothing material was of lasting value.

I could go on and on, yet my gratitude for having known him can hardly be expressed in words, although I try. He breathed life into my soul thorough the Spirit of faith that he exuded. I told him so, praying that it would not come off as flattery. I came to Victory dry, weary, and nearly broken. I stand now filled, hopeful, and empowered. Pastor Billy Joe, I thank you. A thousand times I thank God for you.

What I have found out in the last few days, is that it was in Pastor's most vulnerable hour in which he ministered to me. A year and a half ago he was diagnosed with chronic lymphatic leukemia. I often wondered why the right side of his neck seemed swollen, but never took it to heart. Now I know.

It was October when when his co-laborer and wife Sharron shared with the congregation that Pastor had been diagnosed with lymphoma after going in for a severe throat infection. We did not understand at the time that it was a progression of the leukemia. It was sudden news to us, heart wrenching news in which we all believed the power of God in the midst of humanity's grip.

Several days later I attended the wedding of his son Paul to Ashley. The original date was actually set on my husband and my 10th wedding anniversary. It was moved to the following day at the last minute to accommodate pastor's arrival. This was the last time I would see Pastor's precious face. His voice was weak and his body was frail. Lack of physical nourishment was starkly apparent. He was accompanied to center stage in order to perform the ceremony for his dear son. It was a heroic act of fatherhood; the most sacred gift he could give.

Yet, I did not understand the severity of what I was seeing. Pastor had left the hospital in order to be there for his son. He could not come to the reception. His wife Sharron warmly welcomed us instead.

Word of Pastor's health was limited. I understood the family wanting to protect their privacy and the church. I truly believed that this would be Pastor's season of refinement with the Lord as he walked into healing. I truly believed his time had not yet come. I dreamed of seeing him in the hallway, slim but secure, recovering and radiant.

It was Sunday just over a week ago that we were greeted by friends in the parking lot who told us of Pastor's death. Time seemed to stand still as I could not quite take in what I was hearing. We continued into the church, myself with a blank stare of disbelief. As I accompanied Nia down the hallway to her class, one step at a time it sank in. As we turned the corner to face a familiar place where Pastor used to stand, uncontrollable sobs began to rise up that brought me to my knees. Trembling took over my body as wails of loss echoed in the hall. My sweet Nia still holding my hand, I could not be strong, not even for her. Oh how I loved him.

That day was filled with ache and sorrow; numbing fatigue of grief. The next morning I could barley walk for the ache in my head. I was grief stricken.

The Thanksgiving holiday was a welcome distraction. I stayed busy in preparation. I dreaded, however, returning to church where I would not see the face I have so grown to love.

As predicted, Sunday was difficult. I fought back tears that gripped my throat while attempting to worship. Pastor Sharron gave the message. She was more radiant and beautiful than I have ever seen her, a true testimony of strength and faith. She shared from her heart the private journey of pastor's health and their personal journey as a couple in service to God. Her words washed over me with comfort and her strength brought forth courage in my own soul. She shared that 20 years ago Pastor was first diagnosed with chronic lymphatic leukemia. Believing that he had been healed, and seemingly so, Pastor Billy Joe ministered with strength and impeccable health until a year and a half ago when he was again diagnosed with CLL.

For the first time I understood that my precious Pastor was not yanked away by an untimely death, but that the greater part of his ministry he was a walking miracle.

The memorial service yesterday lasted four hours. I was deeply impacted. Thousands were in attendance. Many profound statements of honor were made and many words of exhortation. I left with great Spiritual fervor and even deeper admiration for Pastor Billy Joe.

One of the dearest testimonies was shared by his son Paul, who spoke of his dad as a great encourager. He left the image with us of his dad holding two thumbs up as he did on many occasions for his son, whether he felt deserving or not. Two thumbs up while sitting on the bench, two thumbs up after being pummeled on the field, two thumbs up which were often as much a mark of Pastor's faith as they were his encouragement- calling things that were not as though they were.

...Seven months have passed since I wrote that last sentence.

I think I have been unable to finish or post this entry because no words are sufficient to say what I really long to express. How can I sum up what is in my heart for Pastor Billy Joe. The ache in my heart still remains and the lump in my throat still rises up when I allow myself to miss him. I want to be satisfied in what I have written, but satisfaction eludes me. Pastor Billy Joe, to say we miss you is completely insufficient. I take great satisfaction, however, in knowing that you are now in paradise tasting the infinite Goodness of God and waiting eagerly for the marriage supper of the Lamb. Your work on earth is done. Well done, thy good and faithful servant.