What's the Point?

Do you read the obituaries? 

I only get the newspaper on Saturdays and Sundays, but I do find the death notices and skim each one. Maybe it's a sign of getting older myself? I usually note the age of the person listed and, if it's mentioned, the circumstances surrounding his or her passing . . . a brief illness, a long battle with cancer, a car accident. 

Recently, several in my circles have lost spouses, siblings, or parents. When I heard the news, I felt the same way as when I walk to the cemetery and happen to see a fresh grave with flowers laid on top. It saddens me. A life lived. A life gone . . . so quickly. Reminds me of the book of Ecclesiastes where the writer talks about the vanity of a life that is soon snuffed out.

The melancholy part of me grieves. I feel unsettled . . . and vulnerable.

There's a little phrase tucked in one of Paul's sermons in Acts 13 that I go back to often. It offers hope and focus, especially when, in our more human moments, we might be tempted to wonder, "What's the point if we all die and after a while nobody remembers us anyway?"

Here's the verse: "David, after he had served the purpose of God in his own generation, fell asleep and was laid with his fathers . . ." (Verse 36). 

Did you see it? Yes, David lived and died, but he also served God's purpose in his own generation! He was a man after God's heart who gave himself to his contemporaries in multiple ways . . . from caring for the family's flock of sheep to governing the nation of Israel. He wasn't perfect, yet with intention, he fulfilled God's purposes for him and those under his influence.  

Three millenniums later, we walk this earth to live out the same objective as David. To faithfully serve God's purposes (not ours) in our own circle of influence, for this generation - for the glory of God. 

So the next time we read the obituaries in the paper, let them remind us of David's example. A worthy goal. A noble aspiration that sheds a whole new light on life and death. 

Community . . . Quietly Caring

Three police officers walked up my driveway to the patio where I sat with my daughter and her friend after supper. "Is there a Sarah Phillips here?" one of them asked. 

I slowly raised my hand to acknowledge my identity.

"Can we talk with you for a minute?"

The look on my face must have registered concern as I rose from my chair, apron still on, to meet them in the driveway.

"There's no cause for alarm, ma'am," the same man informed me. He then mentioned my dad's name. "Do you know him?"

Turns out, my dad's neighbors were concerned because they hadn't seen him for a few days. They did a little detective work, too . . . mail in the mailbox, car in the garage . . . and then they took action. 

I told the officers of my father's whereabouts - Indiana with my sister. I had checked on his house a couple of times, watered the flowers, and checked the mailbox. He would be home the next day.

In the end, I thanked them for their help. And later, thanked my dad's neighbors for their concern (and gave them my cell number). It meant a lot to me that other people were looking out for my 83-year-old dad. 

There's something to community . . . people quietly caring for people. 

Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.

Philippians 2:4