Lessons from Uncle Dave, Part 1

We buried Robin's Uncle Dave yesterday. He finally lost his 2-year battle with Leukemia early Tuesday morning. What a cruel way to die...and while watching him die was agonizing, it was also a tremendous blessing.

I know that sounds odd...so let me explain.

Dave was only 60-years old...which, in my book, is WAY too young to die. But his body was much, much older than 60. For years he abused his body with a variety of drugs, alcohol, and nicotine. His life was a catalog of foolish choices and poor decisions. And he would've told you, as he told Robin and I, that he had repeatedly punched his ticket to Hell over the years

Until, about three years ago, his only son, Tracy, gave him an ultimatum. "Straighten out your life, or you'll never see your two grandchildren again." Dave loved Malorie and Hayden more than just about anything in the world...and if you had ever seen them you would understand why. Malorie is the most beautiful 8-year old girl - with pretty brown hair, happy eyes and a contagious smile. And Hayden is a handsome young man with the biggest Southern drawl a 4-year old can muster. Dave loved thim - he called them "MY kids."

So, in the blink of an eye, he did exactly as he was told.

Tracy wanted Dave's funeral to be personal...and since I was the closest thing to a preacher the Stonebarger's have in their family (I guess working for a Christian university makes you a preacher - ha!), he asked me to perform the service. I was honored to be asked...and I agreed to help.

Those of you who know me well can again testify that I'm just about the weepiest fella walking God's green earth...and I certainly didn't disappoint the Stonebarger's. I shared with them three lessons that I learned from Dave's life...and I think they're worth sharing with both of you as well.

The third chapter of Ecclesiastes almost serves as it's own eulogy. There is a time for everything under Heaven. But in Dave's life I learned about three other "times" that exist in our lives that aren't specifically mentioned in those first eight verses.

And the first one is a time for reflection.

All of us will die one day. Some of us may leave hundreds of thousands of dollars behind. Others will leave cars, boats, and houses. Others may leave boxes and boxes of memories. And some may only leave the clothes on their back. But one thing all of us WILL leave is a legacy.

James writes in his letter, "Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." (James 4:14)

While Dave's sickness was painful and tragic to endure, it was merciful in that it provided him an opportunity to reflect on the legacy he was leaving for his family. Not all of us are guaranteed to know the day that death will be near. Not all of us will have the "luxury" of being able to gather the family around our deathbed in an attempt to make things right.

So the day to create your legacy begins today. As I stood in front of the family at the graveside and led the family in a final farewell to Dave, my youngest son Jacob (who is very much a daddy's boy) started yelling to me from the back of the room "Dada! Dada!"

And I lost it...before I even got started.

Every day I am building my legacy for he and his two brothers to remember. Tomorrow is not the day to improve that legacy. Next year is not the day to shine up that legacy.

The day is today.

Next "time" - a time to repent.