Being Authentic

The leather of the saddle, the twirled pattern of the rope, and the roughness of the blanket lay atop the smooth, polished wood of the casket. Inside lay the remains of someone that I wish I had known. From everything that everyone said, he was an authentic person. He was a country boy and, from what all his friends and family said, proud of it and content to be who he was. I know his family by going to church with them. His grandfather was Bob Onstead, one of the founders of the Randall’s grocery store chain in Houston. His mother is a friend. Not close, but oh so likeable and sweet. Just a few days before Michael got sick, his mother and sister and I were talking about fun things, not knowing that this cloud was looming on the near horizon. That is why I was at the funeral. I didn’t know him, but I knew his family. I wish I had known him, known him really well. The stories that were told sounded like someone who had fun, someone who stood up for his family and his friends, someone who liked to go to bed early (The family called him Smoke because one minute he was there and all of a sudden he had disappeared - gone to bed.), someone who let you know by his actions what he believed in. His family by their actions let me know, once again, what they believed in. They continued to say, “ God is good” despite the horrible circumstances of a 35 year old man that died too soon leaving a young wife and two precious daughters. It drove me to read in my Message Bible in Isaiah. The foreword said that we could either be shaped by the world or be shaped by the word of God. Our choice. Michael’s family chose to be shaped by the word of God. They read it, they believed it, they lived it and they inspired me. As we left the sanctuary, Willie Nelson was singing, “My Heroes have Always been Cowboys.” Next were more “church” songs.

I couldn’t help but ponder, “If I couldn’t have flowers on my casket, what would my family choose to put on it?” Pictures of my husband, children and grandchildren, my Mom and Dad, my sweet in-laws, my wonderful loyal friends. Maybe a few cameras that I have held to capture images of those special individuals. Fun times that we have shared. Funny stories that made us laugh ----together. Scriptures that kept me going. Think about it. If you didn’t put the traditional flowers on your casket, what would it be?

Michael, thanks for inspiring me without ever getting to know you. Thanks for calling me to be authentic.