Rest in peace. Three simple words. And probably a large percentage of people who say those words actually mean them. In other words, they aren’t just something to blurt out without any thought of the meaning. But there’s also a large percentage of people who just speak the words.
Because it’s crucial to rest in peace before you die.
Otherwise, you might spend an eternity wondering why friends didn’t try to help you avoid the terrible consequences of your apathy towards God. And that’s in spite of the fact that at least one did try.
You might’ve caught on to what I’m leading up to. If not, here it is.
I just found out, yesterday, that a guy, who was a close buddy of mine in the 80’s and into the 90’s, died almost exactly two months ago. We haven’t kept in touch for a long time. Because our friendship dissipated and dissolved about 20 years ago. That’s when he decided he finally couldn’t take any more of my Christian worldview.
Yeah, he was a committed atheist.
But even when we were buddies, I knew that. And he knew I was a Christian. But those were the days when I was full-time professional musician. And let’s say I didn’t let my Christian worldview get in the way of me sowing some “wild oats.” So, as a result, our worldviews didn’t clash.
Once I decided to once again stand up for my faith, the buddy thing went cold fast.
In recent years I heard, through mutual connections, that he battled cancer. And that he had some remission time, too. But I saw on his obituary page, online, that he “put up a tenacious fight with cancer, and passed away peacefully under Hospice care.” So, obviously it came back too strong.
To say we were buddies is putting it mildly.
I met him through his cousin I dated for a few years. Once she and I split, and another good friend of mine got married, he and I “hung out” a lot. He was a little less than two months older than me. And we brought his 30th birthday together in Telluride, Colorado. Then, we spent my 30th birthday together in Austin, Texas.
We even put his art skills and my word skills together for some epic Christmas card designs for a couple of years. And his artistic abilities were awesome. I wish I had some I could share with you. But he didn’t pursue an art career. Even though he could have. Basically everyone who saw his work commented on how realistic his drawing and painting was.
His obituary describes it nicely this way: “Scott was highly regarded for his intelligence, precision in architectural steel design, and perceptiveness as a visual artist.”
Very, very true.
But he stuck with the architectural steel design work because he couldn’t bring himself to accept the commercialism of an art career. That inspired me to write about his quandary. I’ll add it below.
He’s the guy who designed my signature logo 40 years ago. I still use it. And I will for as long as I write. In fact, it’s at the end of all my posts. The coolest part of it is how he took my actual signature and transformed it into a smooth logo on a short music scale. And that was way before there were all the digital tools that any dork with a computer could manipulate images these days.
He and I had a lot in common. Our taste in food and wine and lots of other things was very similar. We both enjoyed the same kinds of music. And he was one of the first to follow my music career as it got started way back in Houston, Texas.
Plus, he was one of the 8 people Elgielene and I had at our wedding, not including the minister. And he joined us on the Colorado ski slopes the following day as we spent a short honeymoon there.
I could go on and on with fond memories.
But none of them bring me peace about him. Because I’m not sure he’s able to rest in peace right now. I don’t know what his last days were like. But I know that, as I mentioned, he was a committed atheist. That’s not a good position to be in when death comes, if my worldview is correct. And it IS.
So, I’m deeply saddened to think about what his existence has been for the past two months. I hate to think of someone I spent so much time with in a dark, tormenting place. Without hope of reprieve.
And since our ages were so close, his death is a reminder that this time on Earth is super short. You don’t know when that last breath will leave your body. Or when the Lord will call His people up. But you gotta know it’ll be WAY sooner than you ever dreamed.
If you know a friend who’s a committed atheist, don’t give up. Look for an opportunity to get them to reconsider. Because I can tell you, right now, if you could manage to help them turn around, you’ll both be glad. And you’ll both rest a lot more in peace. Now. And forever.
Heart And Hands
The artist stares at his desk and then at the wall.
His hands perform tasks he doesn’t cherish at all.
He longs for his freedom, but he lives with the pain
That his hands can’t hold on to what his heart can attain.
The artist struggles to be what the others perceive,
But this feeling surrounds him, and it just doesn’t leave.
He wants to paint pictures to show it’s in vain
When his heart can’t hold on to what his hands can attain.
If he could just get his heart and hands together,
I think his doubt would have to cease.
If he could just get his heart and hands together,
I know he’d paint a masterpiece.
The artist sits in a room with a beautiful view,
But he does only things he thinks he has to do.
I wish he could see what he denies us all
By keeping his visions locked behind a wall.
© 1988 Tony Funderburk
Maybe you don’t know me well enough to buy something from me, yet. Ok, then get to know more about me and my worldview. Join the growing body of believers who’ve signed up for the FunderFlash Journal. And enjoy my daily flashes of light from the power of God’s love.
Stay tuned…
