Mahmoud's Gift

One of my favorite articles of clothing is an off-white hoodie with “TCS” in large red letters on the front. 

It is far too big for me. There is a 6-inch rip on the right sleeve. And I never attended Texoma Christian School. 

So, why do I love it so much?

Because when I’m wearing it, I can grab the bottom of the hoodie in front of me, rotate it up and outwards towards me, and read these words, which were resting upside down at my waistline: “Todd loves me.”

Todd Wortham was my youth pastor for three years. As a young teenager, I was utterly captivated by this man and his passion for the Gospel. He spoke about the cross and moved me to tears. His ministry in my life marks my first big step of discipleship. 

Two years after he left our youth group and moved to Nashville, I stayed with him for a day while visiting Belmont University as a prospective student. I don’t remember much about our time together. I told him that Wheaton College was my first choice. He smiled and said, “I can see you there.” It was a cold day, and I didn’t have a jacket, so he lent me a hoodie. 

As we said good-bye, I began to take it off, but he said, “No, keep it. Wait. Give it to me.” I did. He walked over to his desk and grabbed a black permanent marker.

“So you’ll always remember,” he said. 

Todd died almost two years ago.

The church that he planted and was pastoring had organized a mission trip to Joplin, Missouri. While restoring the floor of a tornado-ravaged house, he suffered a severe heart attack. He was 42 years old. 

I don’t think that I’d seen him since receiving that hoodie four years earlier. I cried much when I learned about his death, and I’ve cried much since. Even as I type...

I did not bring it with me to Jordan. I decided that it is too precious to me to risk losing or ruining. 

But I did bring a large off-white sweatshirt. There’s nothing on the front. The words “Love Town” are on the back, commemorating an event at my school last year.  

The students went home today. I gave all of them pictures of the two of us, which I’ve been collecting and printing for the last two weeks. Ten or so of the students also received a personal article of clothing. For some reason, the kids here wear the old shirts and hats of volunteers with pride.

I planned Mahmoud’s gift months ago.