In 1997, the world was rocked with the news of Rich Mullins' passing. Christians everywhere paused their lives to mourn the loss. Radio stations paid tributes. Newspapers dedicated articles. Friends, family members, fans, and fellow musicians came together to remember this man that had impacted their lives.
I was with my family when I heard. I was standing in our driveway. It seemed strange, because just a few hours prior, I saw Rich Mullins alive, leaving our house. My last conversation with him took place the night before in our living room. I still hadn't yet wrapped my mind around the fact that this legend had somehow come to stay at our house. Now he was gone?
The world listened in sad silence, trying to find out what they could. We listened too, and knew there were details to the story the world wouldn't hear. Years have gone by, and I've always felt compelled to write down the story of Rich, staying in our home for the last three weeks of his life as a guest. I know how good things can be forgotten, and I haven't wanted to forget how this has impacted me. Not long ago, I picked up a pen. I knew that I probably never would if I didn't simply make a move. I began to write down what I remembered. Now, I want to share with you what this story has meant to me.
Welcome to Meeting Rich. A Liturgy. A Legacy. A Man with a Guitar in My Living Room.