“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men.” (1 Corinthians 12:4-6 NIV)"
And now the end is near, and so I face the final curtain. My friend, I’ll say it clear. I’ll state my case of which I’m certain. I’ve lived a life that’s full. I’ve traveled each and every highway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way.” These lyrics were written in 1968 by Paul Anka for a French tune “Comme d’habitude.” The song “My Way” is often quoted as being the most remade song in history, but its real popularity came from recordings by “Old Blue Eyes,” Frank Sinatra and “The King,” Elvis Presley. I doubt that Paul Anka ever met Richard, but this song should have been dedicated to him.
Richard was a cantankerous fellow. For him there were only two ways to do anything – his way and the wrong way. There was only one appropriate route from his apartment to the post office. He refused to have his mail delivered, choosing instead to have someone drive him to the post office 3 or 4 times each week. He also had routines for doing his banking and for shopping at his chosen market, pharmacy, and restaurant. During the 2009 ice storm, he had to move from his apartment to the Red Cross shelter. Trying to be helpful, I went to a pharmacy and bought him some over-the-counter antacid tablets, since he chewed up several each day. He promptly informed me that I had bought the wrong brand and I would need to go to his pharmacy and get the right brand. It wasn’t that Richard didn’t appreciate assistance; it just always boiled down to the two ways to do anything.
Cantankerous, yes, but devoted. He was devoted to his God and to his church family. When he was healthy, he rarely missed Sunday School or Worship Services. In Sunday School class, you could always anticipate that Richard would have an answer or an opinion, and he was always happy to share them. He was also devoted to his wife. When Louise’s health began to fail, Richard was always at her side. He gave real meaning to the vow “For better or worse; for richer or poorer; in sickness or in health.” Richard was a writer. He wrote about his life experiences and about his daily walk with Jesus. As with his opinions, he liked to share his writings with others. At his funeral, Lon shared an excerpt from one of Richard’s writings about the Body of Christ. He wrote, “We are all like beautiful musical instruments, beautiful but worthless. Worthless until we are played by the Great Musician.” There is no doubt that Richard was played by the Great Musician. In the symphony of life, I tend to picture him as a bassoon, much like the Grandfather in Prokofiev’s “Peter and the Wolf.”
As with the death of anyone in our church family, Richard’s death will leave a hole, much more than just an empty seat on Sunday mornings. We have lost a sound in our orchestra. We thank God, however, for the lessons He taught us through the life of Richard Dunham: devotion to God, family, and church; journaling our life experiences; not being timid in sharing our love for Jesus; and, of course, patience.
“Regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention. I did what I had to do, and saw it through without exemption. I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way.” Father, we thank you for sharing Richard with us and for showing us how, through Jesus, Your way can become our way. Oh, and if you don’t already know by now, he likes the “Extra Strength Antacid Tablets” from RiteAid.
No comments:
Post a Comment