Two years ago, the words “well done, good and faithful servant” were proclaimed as Dr Jerry Savelle — our church’s apostle and one of the most influential men in my life — stepped into Heaven.
We may have taken two trips around the sun since that day, but it still feels surreal. I miss him so much.
I first met Dr Savelle when I was only a few months old. He was a spiritual guide, a mentor, and a dear friend for my entire life.
As I’ve been reflecting on who he was and what he meant to me, my family, and our church, one attribute keeps coming to mind:
Becoming a vessel of honour.
Back in 2011, when we were in Texas, Dr Savelle preached a message at Heritage of Faith Centre titled Becoming a Vessel of Honour.
That sermon didn’t just impact me — it shaped me.
He shared how earlier that day he and Mrs Carolyn had given our family a tour of their home. They didn’t show us the mess or the ordinary things — they showed us their most precious possessions. They told stories. They took delight in what they valued most.
And he said that’s exactly what God is like.
God delights in “showing off” His most prized possessions.
He referenced Job 1:8:
“Have you considered My servant Job… there is none like him on the earth.”
Job lived in such a way that God could hold him up and say, look at him.
What a thought — to live a life where God could say,
“Have you considered Brooke? There is none like her.”
You could feel Dr Savelle’s heart that night. There was no question — he deeply desired to be a vessel of honour. A prized possession for Jesus.
He then took us to 2 Timothy 2:20 — that in a great house there are vessels of gold and silver, but also wood and clay. Some for honour, some for dishonour.
And he asked a simple but confronting question:
Which one do you want to be?
Could it be that what God is able to pour into us — and do through us — is connected to the vessel we choose to become?
So… how do we become a vessel of honour?
By living a life that is pleasing to God.
By keeping ourselves pure.
By pursuing righteousness.
By guarding our minds.
By watching our words.
He got incredibly practical. From the movies we watch, to the language we use — even the small, everyday decisions that no one else sees.
I was only 13 when I heard that message. And it marked me.
To this day, I still think of it in the most ordinary moments.
When a new movie comes out, I pause and ask: Would the Holy Spirit be comfortable watching this with me?
When I hear language around me, I ask: Do I want that to become part of me?
Even when I’m choosing what to wear, I’ll stop and think: Is this how a vessel of honour carries herself?
And sometimes it’s a close call — 50/50. But I’d rather be confident I’m honouring God than risk it for something that doesn’t really matter.
I’ve been teased at times for my innocence or my standards — but I receive those comments with a smile. Because I know why I live the way I do.
I was privileged to hear a message at 13 that set the trajectory of my life.
And because of it, I’ve been protected. I’ve avoided heartache. I’ve avoided compromise.
So today, as we honour Dr Savelle and the incredible life he lived, I especially honour the life of honour he chose.
The decisions he made — both publicly and privately — to remain a vessel God could use.
And I’m so grateful that his voice still shapes mine today.