Goodbye Buford....

A good name is better than precious ointment,

 and the day of death than the day of birth.

Ecclesiastes 7:1

Lem and I just attended the funeral today of an incredible man. I didn't know this man very well, but I knew him well enough to absolutely adore him.

I found myself crying my eyes out as Amazing Grace began the funeral. I pictured his precious self sitting at the Throne of Jesus, healed from his Parkinson's disease. I pictured his shaky hands, free from shaking and firmly lifted high in praises to the King.

Death is a mysterious thing. It is scary. It is permanent--on Earth, not in Heaven. It awakens the souls of those left behind

Death ironically reminds us of how to live.

Buford taught me a lot about how to live in the short years that I knew him.

Buford always remembered my name. ALWAYS. This never failed to take me by surprise. I didn't see him very often, and surely he knew a whole lot of people. Yet, he always spoke to me, looked me in the eye, and said my name.

He made me feel important. Like I had something to say worth listening to. I pause as I think about this, because I don't think I even knew much about him, but he seemed to know a lot about me and our family. He was interested in people.

I want to be like Buford. I want to remember names. I want to make others feel important. I want others to feel better and more loved after being in my presence, just as we all felt in Buford's.

Buford was a gentleman. Polite. Kind. Thoughtful.

Though I am not a man, it makes me wonder, "am I a gentle woman?" Do I possess the qualities of grace and humility that Buford did?

A lot to ponder. A lot to strive for. Buford left some big shoes to fill. Huge.

We don't often think about death until we sit at a funeral. Listening to the preacher talked about the beloved that has left us.

I wonder if we thought about our legacy more intentionally if it would change us and the people around us. Surely, it must

Buford was intentional. Nothing comes natural from the flesh. It is a mind made up to be intentional about how we treat others, and how we make others feel.

Nobody really cares how cute our hair or our outfits look, or how big our houses are, or what kind of car we drive....what people really care about is being heard. Being listened to. Being loved. Being noticed.

Buford made me feel all of those things.

I want to be like Buford.

Buford's grandson took the stage to speak for the family. It was obvious that Buford had poured his whole life and love into this now grown-man. The fruit was evident on that stage.

What kind of legacy will you leave behind?

What will be the lasting impression that you leave here on Earth?

Money dwindles.

Beauty fades.

How we make people feel will go on living in the hearts of those we poured into. This will be the seed that will be sown for eternity on our behalf.

Are we too busy to live?

Are we too busy to notice others?

Are we too busy to take the time to know someone's name?

Are we too wrapped up in our own problems to listen to another's?

What would we want our children and our grandchildren to say about us one day?

Thank you, sweet Buford. Your love, humility, and gentleness will live on in the hearts of so many. Especially mine.

You are still teaching us.

"I've learned that people will forget what you said,

 people will forget what you did,

but people will never forget how you made them feel."

 Maya Angelou

goodbye for now Buford,


jill