HE WAS QUICK to help anyone he could. Even though I knew him well, many deeds lay covered by layers of years until it was nearly time for his funeral to begin. As I stood by the casket, staring at his lifeless form, recalling what I could about him, people began joining me. Truthfully, I didn’t mind the interruptions.
Friends and long-time acquaintances shared stories of how he’d helped them learn a craft—lending his patient style and encouragement along the way. Some told of how he could diffuse an angry or tense situation with a word. He never did it in a preachy way. He showed them by the way he carried himself, the kindnesses, his thoughtful, spot-on advice with a dose of humor added, and how he spread good cheer simply by entering a room and smiling.
I listened with proud wonder at the variety of ways he was tenderly remembered. There were so many, and I was impressed at how people he hadn't seen in decades freely offered me tales of good times past. One man stopped me as I was about to walk away for some fresh air. “Let me tell you some things you probably never knew about your Dad.” He had been my Dad’s work partner for years. He told me that he once turned down a promotion to keep working with him.
But he blew me away as he spoke of the times he and Dad came over to my house through the years and fixed broken things. They came when he knew no one would be at home. I never knew of those visits. He laughed at the number of times they worked on my air conditioner. (I finally bought one that fit the size of my house!). Dad stuck with it and worked hard to make that old a/c run better. It was the way he loved, all in.
At that point, I hoped his friend was finished, for I was about to lose control of my emotions. But he had learned much from Dad—including how to add a funny twist at a sad story’s end to stop tears before they could begin. When he finished, I could only hug him and whisper, “Thank you.” It's been 18 years since he went away.
I have always wanted to be like Dad. In some ways, maybe I am.
I learned, in a new way, how important it is to give away to others everything I have to offer. It's not so much that I must give but that I get to give. Giving, not getting, is the way to live. It's not so much about me as who made me and who has continued to improve me over my lifetime.
No need to go into a litany of Bible verses. Just be determined to become a living testament to God's kindness and generosity. Become what God hoped I would. With that in mind, in spite of my desire to act like Dad, I don't always succeed. But in my heart, it's the only thing I want. I want to sincerely give the best of myself to friends—to everyone I can. Be a helper. There are many ways to do that.
But I like Dad’s approach. Don't ask at all. Just BE a helper. To give of myself and then let the recipient find out about it a long time after I'm gone. As the old country song says, " Leave a lot of happy tracks along life's road, for others must follow in the path I leave behind.
Even if offering my help never got me anywhere or anything, I believe doing good is why I’m here. I learn each day anew that no one can out-give God. He will not let kindness to another go unrewarded. Good things come back. Not because anyone is deserving or good. Certainly not me! And neither do I have the power to work out things with perfect timing and place. But I know who does. It’s a beautiful thing because when God orders it done, it is because everyone involved is to be blessed. We all become better beings in our trek toward forever when we decide to bloom where we're planted.
As Paul put it, “God doesn’t miss anything. He knows perfectly well all the love you’ve shown him by helping others, and that you keep at it.” Hebrews 6:10
© Copyright 2022, Gary Landerfelt, MyPericope.com
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