Pitch...Puff...Pitch...Puff

"Grass, Dirt, and Smoke: The Reflections of A Little Leaguer." This would be the title I would give my childhood memoirs.

Baseball was my life as a kid. I loved everything about it, especially the smells. Pine tar on my black Louisville Slugger. Oil on my blonde leather glove (Rawlings, of course). Dirt on the leather ball (again, Rawlings). Sweat in my cap. Freshly cut grass. And, the cherry-scented smoke aromatically rising up from my coach's pipe.

Dave Finton was my favorite coach ever. Today, I learned that he passed away. My heart sank for his family. And then it soared as I reflected on his life. Dave was a common man who worked hard for my home state's Department of Transportation. The tall southpaw seemed to have supernatural endurance when throwing batting practice to his "boys of summer" who donned the maroon and white pinstripe uniform of Bob's Finer Foods. As impressed as I was with Coach Finton's pitching stamina, I was even more impressed with his ability to simultaneously puff on his pipe, which stuck out from the right side of his mouth, clenched firmly between his teeth.

It was all so rhythmic and aromatic...Pitch...Puff...Pitch...Puff...Pitch...Puff...like music and incense.

RIP Coach Finton. You stood tall in my life. You gave me confidence at an early age that I could face challenges and rise above my limitations with hard work. With your even temper, you taught me that patience and kindness wear well with people of all ages. I drew upon your example when called upon to coach my own little leaguers. You made my summers, Dave. And, those summers helped to make me much of the man that I am today.

Life...It's All About the Shoes

I officiated a funeral the other day. Troy was 44 and larger than life, both in his big 6'3"/300+ lbs frame and his heart. God gave him a large body to house his huge heart for people. Many great things were said about Troy. Funny things. Sad things. Memorable things. But it was the funeral director's words that have stuck with me. Here's what she said (my paraphrase, except for the last line) as she came to the podium to close the service.

"You all came here today to celebrate the life of a man who lived only a short time on this earth. He is home now. It serves to remind us and make us think that life is short. None of us are promised another moment. We never know when our next moment might be our last. So, if you need to tell someone that you love them, then do it. If you need to forgive someone, then go forgive them. If you need to thank someone, then when you leave here today, go thank them. Because when you put your shoes on in the morning, you never know who might take them off at night."

I loved her sentiments. So, take her advice. Go live them in light of the fact that tomorrow might be too late. As a good friend of mine said to me today, "Go out with your boots on."

Grave Robber

My favorite contemporary Christian band is Petra. They were the pioneers in Christian rock. Their classic, "Grave Robber," is all about the hope every Christian has after he or she dies. The lyrics are built off of 1 Corinthians 15:54--"Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" Don't you just love Paul's sarcastic jab at death? It has no hold over those of us in Christ Jesus. Check out the lyrics as you watch the video of Petra's final performance after 33 years of ministry.



Grave Robber
There's a step that we all have to take alone
An appointment we have with the great unknown
Like a vapor this life is just waiting to pass
Like the flowers that fade like the withering grass

But life seems so long and death so complete
And the grave an impossible portion to cheat
But there's One who has been there and still lived to tell
There is One who has been through both heaven and hell
And the Grave will come up empty handed that day
Jesus will come and steal us away

Where is the sting tell me where is the bite
When the grave robber comes like a thief in the night
Where is the victory where is the prize
When the grave robber comes
And death finally dies

Many still mourn and many still weep
For those that they love who have fallen asleep
But we have this hope though our hearts may still ache
Just one shout from above and they all will awake
(And) in the reunion of joy we will see
Death will be swallowed in sweet victory

When the last enemy is gone from the dust will come a song
Those asleep will be awakened - not a one will be forsakened
He shall wipe away our tears - He will steal away our fears
There will be no sad tomorrow - there will be no pain or sorrow

Considering Your Legacy

Music has helped to challenge my perspectives on the stuff of life. Thursday, while driving, I was listening to Sanctus Real. Their song, Legacy, provided a poignant conclusion to my weeklong thread on epitaphs.

Here's what I heard:

What will they say when I'm gone,

In words that are written in stone?

Under my name, what will they claim about me?

Oh, I want to leave a legacy to be remembered.

More than just a memory that fades away

Because we only, we only get one life

Free me, my hands are tied

I'm so tired of wasting time

These endless inventions

Steal my attention from real life

And when its done, when its over

Oh, I want to leave a legacy to be remembered

More than just a memory that fades away

Because we only, we only get one life

And will the world see Christ

When they look at my life?

Oh, will the world see?

These are my sentiments exactly. Especially, "And will the world see Christ when they look at my life?"

Really. That's all I care about as a husband, as a parent, as a pastor, as a coach, as a friend, as a human being. For me to live is Christ and to die is gain. It's a simple equation for me. If I live for Christ now, I will get more of Him in heaven. Anything else will be lost.

Hope this "Legacy" thread has helped you as you read as much as it has helped me as I typed.

Thanks for reading.

My Tribute to Rod

Yesterday was July 10. That may or may not mean much to you. It's of great significance to me.

Four years ago, on the day, I buried my good friend Rod. He died young. According to his age, 42, he was approaching the threshold of what we commonly call "midlife." Little did we know, but Rod actually hit midlife 21 years earlier. (One's real "midlife" is never known except in hindsight).

(That's Rod being baptized in 1998. I look back on that moment with tremendous gratitude and satisfaction).

Rod was a servant…the kind of guy who would drop everything to help you. I think that's what I'm discovering most about our legacies. People remember our kindness and acts of selfless service more than anything else after we're gone. (I think the converse is true as well: unkindness and selfishness are equally memorable).

Let me share a bit of a story that I told at Rod's memorial service. This personal recounting will shed light on Rod's selfless service.

On one the coldest night in January, Lisa and I returned to a house without heat. It happened to be a Saturday night. Rod was the only heating and air guy that we knew and since he served on our church's Property Commission, I naturally called him for help. He wasn't home.

Interestingly, Rod wasn't on call that night, but he was out helping a co-worker with his on-call responsibilities as homes everywhere we suffering from heating issues. The temps that night dipped into the rare sub-zero zone--rare, that is, for central Pennsylvania.

Debbie, his wife, notified Rod of our dilemma and he came over to the house right away. After igniting some intense flames and initiating several big plumes of black smoke, Rod determined that we indeed had a problem that required immediate attention and repair.

He advised we call our fuel company. I did. But, due to the onslaught of calls received, I received no assurances of help. The only assurance I did get was that someone would call me within the hour. It was already 11:00pm. Did I say it was Saturday night? Saturday night is a big deal for most preachers. Rod knew that. I will never forget his next maneuver. He said, "Todd, you go to bed. You have a big day tomorrow and need to get to sleep. I'll call the company and and tell them to call me directly at home."

By 12:30am, my phone rang and it was Rod telling me that they indeed were going to come out to the house during the night. So, I huddled under my covers and cuddled next to Lisa to keep warm and went to sleep. By 3:30am, I awoke to wonderful sounds of activity in my baseboard, the wonderful scent of heat, and the echoes of two men in my backyard saying,"Thank you" to one another for each other's service.

Rod pledged his allegiance to two flags. The American flag and the Christian flag. He served the former in the Gulf War. The latter had supremacy over the former and he lived for it daily in service to others. Today, God says, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

Even four years later, Rod's selfless act of service still humbles me. I miss him. But my "missing him" is like missing someone who is gone for a lengthy vacation. Rod's in heaven. I am confident of that because Rod loved God with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength and truly loved his neighbor as himself (Luke 10:25-29). I will see him again...in heaven. He just happened to get there before I did.

Who has been to you like Rod was to me? I'd love to have you comment with the first name of that person and in a word or short phrase note their impact upon your life, i.e. "Rod-selfless servant."

What Are You Living For?

Here are some crazy epitaphs on tombstones around the country:

Colorado
Bill Blake
Was hanged by mistake.

Silver City, Nevada
Here lies a man named Zeke.
Second fastest draw in Cripple Creek.

In a New Jersey cemetery
Beneath this stone, a lump of clay,
Lies stingy Jimmy Wyatt.
Who died one morning just at ten
And saved a dinner by it.

It's interesting to think what the living legacies of these folks were by what was on their tombstones. What do you think they lived for? Looks like Jimmy Wyatt was just cheap.

One of my favorite statements about living comes from Saint Paul to the Philippians. In chapter 1 verse 21, Paul say, "For me to live is Christ and to die is gain." Paul lived for Christ and got more of Jesus after he died. I like to encourage people to think about what they are living for and to consider if they will gain more of it or lose it all after they die.

Try it by filling in the blank and circling "gain" or "lose."

"For me to live is ________________ and to die is gain/lose."

What did you discover?

Good Neighbor Walter

Walter Hayes was the constant fixture in the little Mariasville (PA) borough where my family farmhouse sits. There is not much to Mariasville. The tiny village consists of homes along four roads ascending approximately 1/2 mile each, coming together at a crossroads atop a hill. The Hayes' home sat at the apex, across from our farmhouse. Walter was "king of the hill."

Last October, Walter died. My father was privileged to offer a eulogy. Dad recalls one of their conversations: "A couple of summers ago while we were on the subject, I asked him how he wanted to be remembered. After some prodding, he said he would like people to say, 'I was a good neighbor and that I loved my family.'"

Walter was honored with these sentiments posthumously because they were true of him while he lived. Again, my father recalled with poetic flair:

There was a certain man, from the State of Indiana, who purchased a farm house along Route 38 going down from Nickleville to Emlenton. One day in 1971, this man from Indiana decided to repair a leaking roof. He tied the ladder to the porch, climbed up with roll of tar paper, a bucket of pitch, hammer, nails, the tools and supplies needed to do a job that he had never done before. First the roll of roofing fell to the ground then the bucket of pitch followed by the tools. The man, who was afraid of heights, was paralyzed. His children came out, but they did not know what to do, His wife came out, and she could not help. But she called the Good Neighbor Walter who came over, climbed up the ladder, put his arms around the man, helped him get his feet on the ladder, and backed down the ladder with his arms around him. Through all these years, Good Neighbor Walter never mentioned the incident to me or to any one else.

I've singularly dubbed Walter as "king of the hill" because he was the best kind of king...a servant-king. Walter would've have winced at my moniker. That's okay. "Servant-King of the hill" simply fits his legacy. He truly was one who was a good neighbor and loved his family. He simply lived to serve others. And in so doing, helped me know the character of Jesus who said of Himself, "For even I, the Son of Man, came here not to be served but to serve and to give my life as a ransom for many" (Mark 10:45).

Who has helped you see Jesus by the way he or she served you?

My Epitaph

This week, I want to talk about epitaphs. I'm going to try to locate epitaphs that are funny, poignant, inspiring, and/or just plain crazy. It may seem odd, even morbid to talk about an epitaph why you are still alive. Welcome to my inner world. Death has never been a big concern for me. My sentiments about death are best captured by Woody Allen: "I am not afraid of dying. I just don't want to be there when it happens." Amen.

Lately, I've been thinking about what I want to people to say about me after I die. (Hopefully, there will be only a few, "Thank Gods"). Why? I am a firm believer that how you live your life in front of people is a clue about what they will say about you when you are no longer around. If I'm arrogant and unkind, then it will probably be said, "What an arrogant s-o-b!" If I'm stingy and lacking generosity, then you'll hear, "What a tight wad." If I cheat on my wife, then every negative epithet said about me while living or dead will be deserved.

So, what do I want my friends and family to say about me after I die? Simply this: Everyday of his life he lived to love God more and love others a little bit better. You know what? I am going to live a long time because I am no where near this sentiment. Sadly, until only recently did I fully embraced the most important commandment of the Bible (Mark 12:29-31). It's a command that Jesus gave to sum up all the 600+ Old Testament commands. I love Jesus for this distillation. Two commands are all that I can handle...and I will need a lifetime to get these right!

What would you like your epitaph to say?