My grandfather, Olan Icenhower, passed away Monday, August 28th at my parents' home in Arkansas. This picture is one we took two months ago with my newborn, Abby. It is a picture I will cherish forever. 
My grandmother asked me to speak at my grandfather's funeral, and the following is the complete text of that message:Some of you knew O. D. Icenhower as “Mr. Icenhower.” Some of you knew him as “Olan.” Most of you knew him as “Nubbin” or “Nub.” And a few of you knew him as “Daddy.” But I, along with about 47 other people here, knew him as Papaw. And I want to spend a few minutes telling you about my Papaw. I’m not here to talk about his death. I’m here to talk about his life, to celebrate his life. You see, the most valuable lessons in life I learned from my Papaw. When I’m preaching, I don’t know how many of my stories start with “My Papaw said … ” or “My Papaw did …” or "My Papaw used to ..." But of all the lessons he taught me, the greatest lesson in all of life, I learned from my Papaw on a daily basis in his words and in his actions and in everything he did. And that was how to love.
Jesus said in John 13:35,
By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. You know, Jesus could have said a lot of things. He could have said, "By this will all men know that you are my disciples, by your doctrine and your beliefs. By this will all men know you are my disciples, by what church you go to. By this will all men know that you are my disciples, by the programs you have going or the ministries you are involved in." But Jesus didn't say any of those things. He said, "By this, by your love for one another." The distinguishing mark of a follower of Jesus Christ is love. And that is what my Papaw showed to so many people and taught me so well.
There’s four things my Papaw taught me about love. First, he taught me
how to love other people. Papaw loved people. Papaw loved being around people. Your presence here today is an indication of how much Papaw loved people and how many friends he had. Papaw loved to talk. Many of you have probably had Papaw sit and talk your ear off. Papaw loved to be in a crowd of people. The other night at Momma and Daddy’s house, there was a big crowd of people there talking and eating and loving each other, and my Uncle Gary said, “There's only one thing missing. Daddy would have loved to be here right now.”
Papaw loved people. When I was a kid, I remember getting in Papaw’s old truck, and we’d start up the road there in Mt. Carmel, and it would take Papaw forever to get anywhere, maybe a little bit because he drove slow as all get out, but more than that because he had to stop and visit with so many people. Papaw never met a stranger. People all over Howard county, people all over the state of Arkansas know my Papaw. My momma told me yesterday morning that she and Mamaw took Papaw to the mall with them one time. How they ever got him in the mall, I don’t know. But they took him to the mall and found him a bench to sit at out in the mall while they went shopping. When they got back, there was Papaw just talking up a storm with somebody, and he said, “Momma, I want you to meet my friend, so and so.”
Papaw was a friend. He was a friend to everybody. It didn’t matter who you were, how important you were, how rich you were or poor you were, what color you were. He was a friend. When I was a kid, you knew when there was a stranger at the door because they knocked on the door. Nobody ever knocked on the door at Papaw’s house. The door was always open. When you sat down to eat supper at Papaw’s, there was almost always a visitor sitting at the table. Many preachers sat down at Papaw’s supper table after a meeting up at the church to sit down and talk with him about hunting or fishing or gardening or the Bible. Maybe that's where I first began to sense God's calling in my own life, sitting and listening to one of those conversations. If you came to my Papaw’s house, you usually hadn’t been there for very long before you felt like you were part of his family. How many times has Papaw stayed around visiting with people after church and he got ready to go, and his final words were “Y’all come home with me”? And he meant it. They weren't just words. He really wanted you to come home with him and sit down and eat with him and talk with him.
Papaw loved people, and Papaw showed people love. Papaw never has had a lot in this world, never has been a rich man, but he still liked to help people out as best he could. I remember seeing a lot of people come to Papaw’s garden to get food that he had given to them, helping out somebody who was having a tough time.
Papaw taught me how to love other people. The second thing Papaw taught me was he taught me
how to love my kids. Papaw loved his kids and grandkids. Let me tell you, it was a special thing to be his child or grandchild. I have never doubted that Papaw loved me more than I could imagine. You always knew that you were loved.
When you would see Papaw, even as a thirty-year-old man, Papaw’s first words were, “Come here and give Papaw a sugar.” And then, he’d give you a great big hug and a scratchy-faced kiss.
Papaw knew how to show love to kids. When I was a kid, he always carried a package of Juicy-Fruit or Big Red in his pocket or a package of M&Ms to give to his grandkids. He gave us rides on his mule, Target.
One of my favorite things that he did, I am passing on to my kids. Sometimes I tell one of my kids, “Come here and give me some lovein’.” So they climb up in my lap, and I lay them down and say, “Let me pick your guitar.” So I pick up their arm and tickle them under the arm until we are both just laughing with tears in our eyes. That’s something my Papaw did with me, and I pass it on to my children.
Papaw loved his kids and grandkids. He prayed for us. He hugged us. He encouraged us. He was proud of us. He loved us. It didn’t matter what you did. It didn’t matter how long you’d been away. It didn’t matter whether you’d made some mistakes. Papaw always made you know that He loved you unconditionally.
Now, don’t get me wrong, Papaw was sometimes tough on you. The boys, especially, can attest to the fact that if you did something Papaw didn’t approve of, he wasn’t afraid to offer correction, often administered to the seat of the pants. If you weren’t living the way Papaw thought you ought to, he wasn’t afraid to provide some wise direction.
Papaw also knew how to work you. Whether it was working in the garden or hauling hay or picking blackberries or hauling firewood or getting up early in the morning to feed the animals and gather eggs, whatever, a day with Papaw was usually going to include some hard work. When my cousin, Justin, was just a little boy, he came to spend a week with Mamaw and Papaw one summer. And Papaw got Justin to working in the garden, picking peas or beans. Justin hadn’t been there but a couple of days when he called home and said, “I’m ready to come home. I don’t like picking beans.”
But Papaw somehow knew how to make a day of working worthwhile. Papaw knew where all the best swimming holes were. One memory that sticks out for me is one day we had been working in the garden all morning, and it was hot. And Papaw took us swimming. The swimming hole had big tall banks on either side and a rope swing that you could swing over into the water. So, all us boys stripped down and were having a big time swimming. Well, all of a sudden, we hear a holler, and here comes this seventy year old man, naked as a jaybird, diving off that bank into the water. We laughed and laughed. Even at seventy years old, Papaw was a kid at heart. Papaw loved his kids and grandkids, and he loved spending time with them.
Now, let me let you in on a secret: I was Papaw's favorite. Now, all these other grandkids are getting mad at me, because they thought they were Papaw's favorite. Somehow Papaw had a unique way of loving each of us. Every one of us felt like we were Papaw’s favorite. And the truth is, we were. We were all his favorite. There’s a picture of Papaw that I had to find at Momma's house. Papaw is in his old green pickup, sitting behind the steering wheel, grinning from ear to ear. The picture was taken lookin in the passenger side window. So, Papaw is in the center, and around the edge of the picture are the five little faces of five of us grandkids, sticking out the window. That picture really says it all. I don’t remember where we were going or what we were doing, but it didn’t matter. We were going with Papaw, and going anywhere with Papaw was a good time. Maybe that’s why today is so tough. Because Papaw’s gone, and for right now, we can’t go with him.
Papaw loved his kids. The third thing I learned from Papaw was
how to love my wife. As Papaw would say, he loved “that thing there.” I remember Papaw telling me about the first time he saw Mamaw. Papaw was driving down the road and saw a girl with coal-black hair playing out in the yard, and he said to himself that was the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life and that he was going to marry her someday. And he did.
Mamaw was the love of Papaw’s life, his best friend, his lifelong companion. This year they were married 64 years. There aren't a lot of people who make it 64 years in marriage. So, what’s the secret to 64 years of marriage? Did they never fight? Did they always get along perfectly. No, they had their share of disagreements. Those of us who were their kids and grandkids can attest to that. Mamaw told me the other day that if somebody were to tell her in 64 years of marriage that they never had a disagreement or a cross word with each other, she wouldn’t believe them. Mamaw said the secret was they always had enough love for each other to work through whatever problems they had with each other. When LaRissa and I were getting married, Papaw told us, “Whatever you do, don’t go to bed mad at each other. You may not have it all worked out, but don’t go to bed mad at each other.” We’ve put that into practice in our marriage. Some nights we haven't gone to bed until 2 o'clock in the morning, but we've haven't gone to bed mad at each other, and we’ve been married now for 13 years.
A year and a half ago, Mamaw was in the hospital and had some pretty major surgery, and we didn’t know if Mamaw was going to make it. Papaw was a nervous wreck in the waiting room. He just had to go see Mamaw as much as they would let him in to see her. One of the times he came out of her room, and he had this great big grin on his face, and he said, “I got me some sugars.” Several months ago, we were visiting Momma and Daddy and Mamaw and Papaw, and we were getting ready to go. Everybody was already out of the house, and I was in a back room. Papaw was sitting in the kitchen, and I heard Mamaw come into the kitchen where he was. She told him, “Daddy, you’ll never know how much I love you.” Papaw said, “I love you, too. More than I could ever say.” Papaw loved Mamaw.
Now, there’s a lot of other things I could tell you about that Papaw loved. Papaw loved life. He loved hunting. He loved gardening. He loved dogs. He loved his mule, Target. I remember watching Papaw and Target plowing for hours in the garden together, sweat would be pouring off of both of them. And as they would go past Mamaw, Target would start breathing harder, and Mamaw would say, "Nubbin, you stop and let that mule rest!" And they would stop to rest while Papaw drank a cup of coffee. Papaw loved coffee. Hot coffee, cold coffee, strong coffee, weak coffee, it didn't matter. I used to be amazed at how Papaw could drive over a hundred miles of busted glass with a cup of coffee without ever spilling a drop.
But of all the things Papaw loved, the most important thing Papaw taught me was
Papaw taught me to love Jesus. When Papaw was 33 years old, he asked Jesus to save him, and he did. And Papaw never got over it. Whenever Papaw would pray and thank Jesus for saving him, his voice would crack, and tears would well up in his eyes. He was just in love with Jesus.
Papaw couldn’t read very much, so every evening he and Mamaw would sit together and Mamaw would read the Bible to him. Many times, Mamaw would read something to him that meant something special or that he didn't quite understand, and he would say, "Read that again, Momma." Mamaw has read the Bible to Papaw for hours and hours. For someone who couldn’t read, Papaw knew more about the Bible than most people.
Papaw loved to talk about Jesus with people. He loved to have preachers come into his home so he could talk to them about the Bible and about his faith. You didn’t have to talk to Papaw very long to find out how important his relationship with the Lord was to him.
Papaw gave a lot of thought to his faith. After I became a preacher, Papaw would always have some question for me that he had been thinking about. Usually it was something deeper than I had thought about or than I had an easy answer for. One time Papaw told me, “Shawn, there’s a lot in that book that I don’t understand. But I just try to live out the parts that I do understand.” You know, as a pastor, that is the most I could hope for from any person, "There's a lot that I don't understand. I just try to live out the parts that I do understand."
I guess Papaw’s favorite song was “Have Thine Own Way, Lord.” Anytime we had a singing at church, Papaw would always request that song. And when Papaw would sing that song, he would turn his eyes toward heaven and sing at the top of his lungs and with all his heart, as tears rolled down his face.
Papaw loved Jesus. Early Monday morning, Papaw closed his eyes and went to sleep in this life. And I believe that the instant Papaw closed his eyes in this life, he opened them in heaven, and the first thing he saw was the face of Jesus as He welcomed Papaw home. And if Papaw could talk to you today, he would say what he has said to so many of you so many times, “Y’all come home with me.” Papaw would want you to spend eternity in heaven with him and with Jesus. Revelation 22:17, the very last chapter of the Bible says,
The Spirit and the bride say, “[Y'all]
Come!” And let him who hears say, “[Y'all]
Come!” Whoever is thirsty, let him come, and whoever wishes, let him take the free gift of the water of life. Papaw would say to you, “Y’all come!”
Would you bow your heads with me? Now, I know in a crowd this size, there are some of you who have wandered away from home, you've wandered away from a relationship with Jesus Christ, and you're not as close to God as you once were. Maybe some of you have never come home. You've never come to know Jesus Christ as the forgiver of your sins and the leader of your life. Well, I want you to leave here today without any doubt about what will happen to you when you die. So, I want to invite you, just from your heart to God's heart to pray this prayer with me, "Dear Jesus, I want to come home. My sins have taken me far away from you. So, as much as I know how, I ask you to forgive me of my sins. I believe you died on the cross to pay the price for my sins. From now on, I want you to be the leader of my life. Thank you for saving me. In Jesus name, Amen."
If you would like to leave a message for the family, you can view the online obituary and sign the guest book by going to www.nashvillefh.com and clicking on "obituaries."
I readily admit that there was a time when I was the village idiot when it came to expressing love and affection to my wife and being a romantic Prince Charming. I'm the guy who offered to take my wife out to a movie and eat at Taco Bell afterwards on our anniversary (Ouch!) But somewhere along the way, by the grace of God and with the help of my awesome wife, I figured it out.
