May 7, 2018

What Will People Remember?

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

– Revelation 21:4

Sometimes life hurts. It doesn’t make sense. It leaves you with a gaping hole in your heart that you just know will never heal.

Our community lost one of its own in a horrific car wreck in Georgia. She fought it. She did. But she died anyway and nothing will ever be the same.

Some people touch lives. It’s that simple and that complicated. She was an emergency room physician noted for being kind and compassionate. The prayers and comments came from everywhere. She helped a mama tell her baby girl that she had a brain tumor. She told the survivor of a bad wreck that the other person had died. She was on the hard line between life and death so many times. Was she a good doctor? Absolutely! But what people talk about is her heart.

She left behind a husband and young children. They all attended our church. There will be questions. How could there not be? Mamas are supposed to come home to us, not leave for heaven before they have a chance to raise their babies and cuddle their grandbabies.

It’s a reminder for all of us. There’s no guarantee that we will have tomorrow. There’s no guarantee we’ll have the next hour. What really matters? Salvation, obviously. We need to know Jesus, to understand what He did for us, to accept His sacrifice. We need to live with the assurance that death can’t snatch us from Jesus. Death has no claim on us.

But what about those we leave behind? How will they remember us?  What kind of legacy are we leaving behind?

Rarely do we stop and consider that. We’re too focused on ourselves, our families, our immediate needs of the day to think about what people will remember if we’re suddenly gone.

Consider the people who have gone to heaven. When I think of Aunt Murl my mind sees her sitting quietly in a chair as she prayed. She was feisty and outspoken and she loved Jesus with a passion that can only come from deep, deep faith. I think of my cousin Peggy, so soft spoken and kind. She was smart and so very proud of her grandson, the preacher. She never stopped studying the Bible, never stopped learning and asking questions. I loved to spend time with her talking about Jesus. I miss that.

Of course, not all memories are wonderful. Some are filled with people who didn’t live a faith they proclaimed. Other memories are of people forever lost because they refused to believe. There are people who showed up on Sunday because it was expected. They never let a little church slow down their abundant lifestyle. What do we remember about them? How much alcohol they drank? How many times their spouse looked the other way at some “indiscretion?” How much money they made or where they lived? Things of the world pass away. They are not what leave lasting memories and change hearts for the better.

What do you want people to say about you when you are gone? Think about it. Then live your life accordingly.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Death Leaves Shattered Dreams

“He will remove all their sorrows, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. For the old world and its evils are gone forever.” -- Revelation 21:4

He went to lunch. The same thing he did every day he worked. Only this day he didn’t come back. His co-workers began to notice his absence. They got worried. They tried his cell phone but got no answer. Finally a supervisor called the hospital and found him.

His young wife sat there alone. He was dead. Just that fast. All their hopes and dreams shattered in a split second. His life on earth ended at age 23. She is now a 20-year-old widow. We know it can happen. We just never expect it to happen to someone we know.

I first met this young man several years ago when he began his job. He started at the bottom but he was never at the bottom of his supervisor’s radar. He was smart and he had a particular aptitude for engines and mechanics. He got promoted rather quickly. His supervisor started sending him to special schools. Yeah. He had a bright future working for people who valued his abilities.

He was a favorite among his co-workers. He had a quick laugh. His eyes would twinkle and he’d shake his head, a grin spread from ear to ear. He’d snag a soda or donut, look around to see if anyone noticed, then laugh about it as he leisurely strolled back to the shop.

He told me once that his mother was determined that all her children would attend college. He was just as determined that he would not. He was smart enough. He just wasn’t interested and considered college a waste of money for someone who would never use a degree.

He loved all things mechanical. He had a knack for engines -- cars, trucks, motorcycles. He loved to tinker with them and always had. That’s what he told me. He knew what he wanted to do and was determined to make his dream come true.

If he’d just left that motorcycle alone. He’d only had it a week. He usually drove a deep red Mercury that he’d spiffed up in his customary style. But not that day. Not that lunch. Not in that moment when it mattered.

So now family and friends will gather around his wife and his mother. They’ll mourn and rejoice, all at the same time. Because he’s gone home and doing just fine but they’re still here and face endless days and nights without him by their side.

Monday, May 30, 2011

Hold On To The Promise

 

He will remove all of their sorrows, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. For the old world and its evils are gone forever. -- Revelation 21:4

Memorial Day is that day set aside to remember those who died in active military service. We remember their sacrifice. And that of their families and friends. Because every death broke a heart, shattered a dream, changed a tomorrow.

War is such an awful thing. Necessary sometimes but awful just the same. The training is rigorous and the work never seems to end. Especially in today’s world. It seems like some other country always needs our troops to help with peacekeeping. And that doesn’t even consider our own security or our own wars.

That security comes with a high price. Death, certainly. Permanent injuries -- both the physical and emotional kind -- forever change a person. Separations from family are difficult and leave scars on the soldier, spouse and children. Moves are sometimes good and sometimes bad. And on and on it goes.

These soldiers make a choice. And sometimes that choice leads them down a path they probably didn’t expect. Death. Does anybody really expect death? Perhaps those who are terminally ill have time to prepare. But a soldier who is in the prime of his/her life? I don’t think so. I don’t think any of us ever expect to wake up one day and not be around to see that day end hours later.

No more death. Just forever with those with love. The promise of a God who never breaks His promises. Something to hold on to on this day of memories.