Making Each Day Count

My uncle died this past week. That's sad in itself. But his life was sadder than most.

Much of his life he was an alcoholic. He and my aunt had seven children. Much of the years when the kids were small, he spent in a bar somewhere. But, in his son's eulogy to his father, I was struck by one thing. While my uncle had been drunk a lot of the time, he still took his boys hunting with him. He taught them to fish. He sang little ditties and jingles, and his son sang one to us word for word. He taught them to laugh. He taught them to have fun.

But, I think, most of all, he taught them that real love is unconditional. Some of his children have made mistakes. Serious mistakes. Maybe it was because he had been there himself, but he never let his love flow be dammed by disapproval or criticism. At his death, they honored that.

My uncle found peace with God a couple years before he died. He would call my aunt and uncle, who pastor a church here in town, and have them pray with him. They sent him CDs of my uncle preaching. Quite a turnaround. But, oh, the wasted years!

There are a lot of things in my life, even right now, that I wish were different. But at the moment, I don't want anything that seems to be disappointing or upsetting to deter me from doing what's right. I don't want others to affect my relationship with God. When it's all said and done, what have I left behind? I certainly won't have material goods, but I hope I leave a good name, beautiful memories, and a testimony that I loved my God, my family, and my friends. Let it be said that I made a difference.