“I look back on my life like a good day’s work, it was done and I am satisfied with it.” Grandma Moses (1860-1961)
I remember sitting at the bedside of a member of one of the churches I served. He was quite old and he was dying. His wife had called me to ask that I come and be with him. She said that he had some questions for me. I knew this would be a tough encounter for two reasons: 1) this gentleman was so weak that it would take all my concentration just to hear him speak and 2) I knew this was probably my last chance to have the opportunity to answer whatever questions he had. I wouldn’t get the opportunity to clarify any answers I might give him.
Just a word about the man lying in that bed nearby. To look at him, all one would see was a frail, old man whose health issues had caught up with him. Death was very near. In his prime he had been a successful businessman, a philanthropist, a loving husband and father, and a pillar of the community. Everyone knew him and everyone respected him. He truly was one of those folks about whom no ill words could be spoken.
Personally this was one of my favorite folks to know. He always had a ready smile and a willingness to engage me in conversation. He and I talked about all sorts of things: his business, his boyhood living on a farm, the death of a beloved sister when they were both young, and his intentionality concerning keeping good friends and family close by. In a nutshell, this was a man of character, a man of success and integrity, a man of great accomplishment.
But to encounter him now, lying on his bed, drifting in and out of sleep, slurring his words, barely able to lift his head off his pillow, one would never suspect his former days. Death had caught up with him.
When you are around death long enough, especially during the transitions that occur as an individual passes from life to death, you learn to sense death’s real presence. At first, being that close to death is unsettling. But after some time, death becomes nothing more than the other companion with whom we all must contend.
My old friend started to whisper – “Pastor, what’s going to happen to me? When I die, where will I go and where will I be? Pastor I have so many regrets, so many memories of all the things I wish I had done but never did. What was my life for?”
On his deathbed, this man, who for all outward appearances, was a model citizen, father, husband, church member, and successful businessman, could only consider what purpose his life had held for him. He now sought answers to questions he should have asked while he was able to debate those questions with me and with others. He had run out of time. He feared dying. He was uncertain of what awaited him.
The reason I tie this story to the quote from Grandma Moses has to do with the importance of living in hope, knowing and living your purpose, and living that purpose fully while we are able. Grandma Moses’ life had a noble purpose and it brought her peace. My friend, at this late moment in his life, realized he had never uncovered his purpose and he certainly was not at peace.
A casual observer might say my friend’s purpose was to be a good father, husband, businessman, and citizen. Those certainly are some of his accomplishments but what he was wrestling with was that he never asked himself why he had accomplished those things. He never sought closure while he was living.
Identifying and understanding one’s purpose in life is what sets one apart. Discovering and living your purpose is what makes you unique. Grandma Moses knew her purpose and knew peace. My friend did not. Peace was not his companion when he drew his last breath.
At his passing, I mourned my friend. I wish I had known him long enough to have helped him understand his purpose in life, to have helped him find peace before his death. He did not know the power and promise of hope in his life. It would have made a difference.
“Peace I leave with you; my peace peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” (Gospel of John 14:27)
May you find your purpose in life and may you find peace in your heart.
I, too, felt sorry that he hadn’t confided in you earlier. A willingness to be vulnerable is a complicated lesson. Whatever you said to him at the end was surely some sort of comfort.
It’s interesting to me that we can do so many things in life and be so well-loved and appreciated for all we have accomplished but sometimes fail to see what we have given the world. As you say, knowing your purpose is so important.
Stephanie, I keep thinking, “to thine own self be true.” Every life should have a noble purpose and no one but the individual can know if the purpose has been fulfilled in one’s life. External praise is wonderful but our hearts are not so easily fooled. Thanks for your comment.
Thank you for reading my post. I hope you’ll come back again. I appreciate your comment.
Karen, it’s hard to help someone else summarize their life especially when the stakes seem so high. My strategy is to end each day by asking myself the question, “what was I able to do today to ease suffering and what have I learned from that effort?” If I can answer that question each day, I am hoping I won’t need extra assurance just at my death.
Once we know our purpose in life, peace is an automatic. Lovely post.
Thank you for taking the time to read this post. I appreciate your comment.