Why This Series?
One of the unexpected gifts of serving at Micah's Promise has been meeting remarkable people whose lives have shaped the way I think about faith, relationships, healing, and hope.
Sometimes those lessons come from the girls we serve.
Sometimes from a volunteer.
Sometimes from a parent.
Sometimes from someone whose legacy continues to influence others even after they're gone.
Stories that Shape Us is a quarterly collection of those reflections.
I hope they'll encourage you as much as they've encouraged me.
— Audra
The Gift of Presence
Recently, a pastor shared what happened after the unexpected loss of his father. Not long after getting the call, he arrived at his parents’ home. His mother handed him a small cardboard box filled with his dad's things. Looking down at the box, he thought, "I don't want his things. I want my dad. I want my dad’s presence."
Most of us spend our lives accumulating things: titles, achievements, possessions. responsibilities. We work hard to provide for the people we love, providing a better life or opportunity than we had, often believing those things will be the measure of a life well lived.
But when someone we love is gone, it is rarely their things we miss most. We miss their presence.
Bath time.
Bedtime.
Bottle feeding.
It was the time he got to spend with his kids after a long day of work.
Before they shared a single accomplishment, they shared a value: family came above everything.
The ordinary moments rarely make headlines, yet they shape a family forever.
Their father worked hard. He carried significant responsibilities. People across Georgia wanted his attention. Yet they all described the same pattern: when he came home, he was present.
Not just physically at home. But truly present.
His love was unconditional; they never had to question it. If they called, he answered. If they needed him, he showed up. Family came first.
Children are always watching. Long after they forget our advice, they remember our example. Richard’s influence continues shaping the way they approach their own relationships and families today.
Shannon shared that their father’s example shaped their expectations of how a man should act as she watched how he treated their mom with love and respect. Later in life, Richard stepped in as a father figure for her son without being asked. Because that’s who he was.
Justin learned the importance of being intentional, choosing how to spend time with his children instead of letting the days get away from you. He learned this by watching his father invest intentionally in his own childhood.
Ashley continues passing those same values on to her son even as he serves in the military. Her siblings say one of the greatest compliments they can give her is this: if you call Ashley, she'll be there, just like their dad.
The Integrity of Presence
One of the qualities that surfaced repeatedly in every conversation was consistency. Richard's longtime pastor and friend, Jimmy Elder, described him as a man who was remarkably consistent and his faith was the foundation of every aspect of his life.
“He was always the same person in every place he showed up. There wasn’t a public version of Richard and a private version of Richard.” - Jimmy Elder
As Father's Day approaches, I find myself thinking about the Honorable Richard Smith - a husband, father, grandfather, public servant, champion for Micah's Promise whose life reminds us that the greatest gift we can give the people we love is not what we leave behind, it's how we show up while we're here.
Ordinary Moments
Richard became a father at 21 while still a sophomore at LSU. Over the years, he would serve as an agricultural extension agent, Georgia State Representative, committee chairman, and advocate for countless causes across our state. Yet when I spoke with his children - Shannon, Ashley, and Justin, they didn’t begin by talking about legislation, leadership positions, or accomplishments. They talked about:
The man at church was the same man at the Capitol.
The man serving constituents was the same man sitting around the dinner table.
The man advocating for legislation was the same man who spent time in his backyard watching birds and enjoying God's creation.
Jimmy paused to add, “Richard first was a Christian and a family man and a legislative person third.”
His faith wasn't something he turned on when convenient or put aside when it wasn't. It quietly shaped how he approached every role he inhabited.
Richard believed wisdom was best sought in community. Over the years, he and Jimmy became more than pastor and church member; they became trusted friends who regularly sought one another's counsel in both life and leadership. They were brothers in that shared belief.
A Legacy That Quietly Served
He believed that doing the right thing mattered, and he wanted his actions to reflect the faith he professed.
That same heart is one of the reasons Micah's Promise counted him as a friend and advocate. Before legislative sessions, Richard would often reach out and ask a simple question: "What do I need to understand, and how can I help?"
He didn't assume he already knew the answers. He listened. He learned. He leveraged his influence to serve others.
After Richard's passing, his children began hearing story after story from people whose lives had been impacted by his quiet acts of service. Many conversations started the same way, "I wanted you to know something about your dad..." What struck them was the number of stories they had never heard before.
Richard wasn't interested in broadcasting his service or generosity. He knew both his opportunities and his limitations. If he could help, he did. If he couldn't, he'd let them know and offer to connect them with someone who could and would follow through with his word.
And that is why his legacy feels so powerful today.
It wasn't built through grand gestures.
It was built through thousands of ordinary choices repeated over a lifetime.
Answering the phone.
Keeping his word.
Showing up.
Doing the right thing.
Being present.
A Legacy That Lives On
At Micah's Promise, we often talk about the factors that make children vulnerable to exploitation and trafficking. Repeatedly, we find the same needs beneath the surface: love, belonging, attention, safety, consistency, and trusted relationships.
Richard's story reminds us that prevention often begins long before a crisis. It begins with ordinary acts of love, consistency, and presence.
The children most vulnerable to exploitation are often searching for what every child was designed to receive - a safe, caring adult who is present.
While not every father, grandfather, mentor, coach, or caregiver serves in public office, every one of us has the opportunity to shape a life through our presence.
“Parenting is not an avocation, it’s a vocation – a response to the voice of God, a calling." – Jimmy Elder
Jimmy believes Richard's example began with his faith. When we recognize and receive our children as gifts entrusted to us by God, presence becomes more than a parenting choice, it becomes an act of faithful stewardship showing up one small action at a time:
to put down the phone.
to leave work on time.
to ask another question.
to listen a little longer.
to show up when it's inconvenient.
to choose relationship over distraction.
One day, each of us will leave behind a "box of things", awards, possessions, titles, and mementos.
The question is not what will be inside that box.
The question is what will remain in the hearts of the people we love.
Richard Smith's children never had to wonder. Their father gave them something far more valuable than things.
He gave them his presence.
Because of that, his legacy continues to live on in his children, his grandchildren, the countless lives he served, and the generations still being shaped by the example of a man who understood that showing up may be one of the most powerful acts of love we ever offer.
