Over and Out, Big Eagle – A Tribute to Wanda Fost

It was a beautiful day in August…the sun was shining, the wind was barely blowing (which is a rarity for Newfoundland on sunny days), and I was about to marry the love of my life. Yes, it was our wedding day in 2011. The only picture I have included in this blog is very precious to me. The stars of the photo are myself, my wife, and our dear friend and mentor – Wanda Fost. When we asked Wanda to officiate our wedding, she immediately filled up with happy tears and was giggling with joy. Months prior, we had completed our pre-martial counseling with Wanda, which included many funny moments, yet there was also important advice for our marriage. We were young – 21 and 20, and now with our 15 year anniversary approaching, we say goodbye to our Mama Wanda (as many referred to her).

This blog today is all about Wanda – the funny times (which were numerous) and just special memories. This blog does not touch on a fraction of her life, as she was a loving mother, grandmother, pastor, mentor, and friend – but I do give you my account for some things. I hope you are blessed as you read. Feel free to share it to pass on her memory.

Vehicles speeding down the highway, with horns blaring and heart rates racing – well, it’s just my heart really. My pulse quickens as I grip the door; I feel like were going into lightspeed mode as Big Eagle (Wanda) cruises along on the road, suddenly realizing that we were going the wrong direction on a major highway, just outside Montreal, Canada! The year is 2013 (I believe), and we were heading away from our destination. Since I was the navigator, I advised Big Eagle that we were going in the wrong direction, to which she replied in a shrill -Wanda-like-drawn out voice, “What?”

I pointed to a emergency turn around just up ahead, to which she replied, “Copy, Little Eagle!”

Instantly, she hit the brakes and make a sharp left hand turn into the emergency turn around on the highway! After she made the turn, ending up on the other side of the highway, we made our way back towards our proper destination.

I thought we were going to die – 100%.

However, since I am currently writing this tribute, it can be assumed I survived that day.

Also I still haven’t figured out why I was called Little Eagle, considering I am 6’1, and Wanda was like 5’5 – but hey, whatever works.

All I can remember really about that moment was Wanda’s laugh. Her beautiful, deep chuckle laugh, which made you feel warm inside – because you knew that everything was fine. It wasn’t a hearty, deep kind of laugh. No, it was more like a joyful, bubbly echo of her inner self. (If you had the privilege of knowing Wanda, you know what I am talking about).

This is my tribute to Wanda Fost – my dear friend and mentor.

Where to begin?

Well, I guess I can let you know now that you should get a coffee or tea, and maybe something sweet – yes, enjoy this post from The Eason Clan. I could actually write a short book about all my personal encounters with Wanda and ministry times through Linking Hearts (Wanda’s ministry).

Starting off, I want to make it clear that Wanda Fost was my Yoda. If you know Star Wars, that means she was my mentor. If you don’t know Star Wars, that probably makes zero sense to you. Yes, it seemed like every time I was with her, I was learning something wise. Whether it be scripture revelations, hearing her preach at Aglow or conferences. I watched her and gobbled up whatever I could learn from her.

Now not everything was worth repeating, like when we were sitting in a restaurant in Montreal and we learned that the French word for seal, sounds just like the F-word… Wanda couldn’t believe it, so she started saying that word in disbelief, ” You mean the French word for seal is phoque , while also chuckling loudly in a restaurant in Montreal – might not seem like the wisest thing to learn from her… but it was priceless though… even though some of the folks in the nearby tables must have thought we were nuts. 

Besides learning new words for animals, I learned much about spiritual growth (what a switch, hey?) I learned that I could be confident in who I was in my walk with the Lord, and that I should always trust the Lord, even when the situation seemed hard. For instance, when I first started playing my Pevey electric guitar at the age of 14, I thought I was on top of the world. I had skater hair (Justin Bieber hair, in his early days – but I had it first though, just so you know), my tight fitting Kutless t-shirt (which would be a belly top today), and my distortion pedal. 

So I played my electric guitar over and over, and then I decided that when I turned 16, I wanted to buy a gun.

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“What for?” you may ask. 

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“To shoot…things…” 

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(I will get back to my gun story in a moment)

So one night while I was at Wanda’s prayer meeting in 2006 (which was usually on Tuesday nights), I brought my electric and my amp and began playing in the room downstairs. It was great, but it felt a little weird. The first reason was that I felt very self-conscious about playing my guitar and making mistakes – especially when it’s just one instrument, and about sixteen pairs of eyes are on you, it can be intimidating when you make a mistake. The second reason being that I was not liking the sound of the songs I played on electric – it just didn’t feel right. 

So I sold my electric guitar and bought a gun. 

I wanted a .22 rifle for small game hunting, and after much target practice ( and becoming an excellent shot *cough cough*) I began hunting. However, much to my surprise, there were no Grouse or Rabbits to be seen, so I had a firearm that was only good for shooting cans.

Then it happened… a thought came into my mind. 

I want an acoustic guitar to play worship songs.

So I went ahead and sold my gun to another hunter, and then I went to the guitar store and bought a black Fender acoustic guitar. It was then that I really began to see the blessings that the Lord had given me for playing and singing. Where did it start?

At Wanda’s.

Yet, even with all my cool hair, new guitar, and former memories of my gun skills, my confidence still struggled. If I was playing a G chord and then switching to D, and then back up to C – I was so nervous about my strumming and messing up.

Then one prayer night at Wanda’s, I was playing Draw me Close by Michael W. Smith, and while I was playing I looked up at Wanda after I made a mistake. I was not only playing it wrong at times, I was singing it in the wrong key – every guitarist’s nightmare. So I took my guitar pick off the strings..

And then it happened. 

I stared at Wanda and she looked at me from across the room, and with a reassuring smile and nodding, she mouthed the words Keep going. Keep going. It’s beautiful.

So I continued…and I’ve been playing ever since.