How do we want to be remembered when our journey is over?

Two characters are talking in the “Candorville” comic strip of September 28, 2010 by Darrin Bell. It is the first character’s comment and questions that caught my attention. He says, “Do you want your impact on this world to outlast you? In the end, we either turn into a long-remembered story, or we fade away. If you could have people say just one thing about you at your funeral … what would it be?” That is sobering.

Once again I am contemplating the words to be said at a funeral concerning the life and impact of an individual (see blog for 10/4: In memory of Rick Kelly – husband, father, patriot…). Though there are others who will also share their remembrances it falls to me to share his story … his journey here on earth within the context of the promises of God’s grace and mercy through Jesus Christ. I have never taken this sacred responsibility lightly or without pause.

I remember the very first funeral I was privileged to hold while serving the little Methodist church in Temple, Georgia when I was in seminary. With no training, guidance or direction, nothing in seminary prepares you for the pastor’s responsibility in these cases, I was simply thrust into the fray of assisting a family through the difficult times of an illness, death, funeral preparation and trying to help them pick-up the pieces of their shattered lives after the funeral. D. F. and Mrs. Staples spent their entire lives together – childhood, schooling, and teaching careers – their entire lives except for 6 months when D.F. was promoted to become a principal at another school … he had to wait until he had an opening for a English teacher at his new location, as he shared on Sunday evening, “It was the longest 6 months of his life” … naturally he hired his wife. It was in Junior High School that they started the practice of praying the 23rd Psalm as they walked together to school, later to be prayed in the car as he drove them to work. Mr. D. F. Staples will stay with me for as long as I live.

To this day I remember sitting in their living room with all the family gathered around and asking the simple question, “Tell me about his life.” More than an hour later they were still sharing his life’s journey and impact on them, the community and all the students and faculty that he was associated with. As I drove home that evening I could feel a tear running down my cheek as I prayed, “May that be said of me when my journey on earth has reached its end.”

“If you could have people say just one thing about you at your funeral … what would it be?” is a good question … one that most of us do not dwell on very often nor give it much thought … but a good question nevertheless. Who was it that said, “You only pass through this life one time so make sure it was worth the trip?” What difference have we made in people’s lives? Was our impact positive or negative … did we add to life or take away from life? Oh, most of us would have made a few different choices along the journey, if we could do it again while retaining our present knowledge, but even in considering that issue … how have we effected the lives of others along the journey?

The words will come together for Saturday’s service, they always do, and I will stand before those gathered at Rick’s memorial service to share them. Their emotions will be mixed – grief will be deep and mixed with a little hurt or anger, given the circumstances of his life – so I can only pray that God will speak through my meager words to bring healing, understanding and peace. The Sun will rise again on Sunday and come Monday morning we will pick-up the daily routine of our lives. Occasionally, we will think again about Rick, but eventually even those memories will fade especially as the trials of our own existence makes demands on our energy and mental resources. And again I will think of D.F. Staples and the impact he made on my life – even if I knew him better as a memory shared than a life lived.

Quote for today: Death is not extinguishing the light from the Christian; it is putting out the lamp because the dawn has come. Source unknown