He Tried

Audrey and I were in the car for a long ride recently and among the things we talked about was which one of us might die first. Naturally, because I'm a bit older than her, and a man, the odds are that it will be me.

"You must promise me one thing", I said. "Use some of that insurance money to buy a nice stone."

My wife looked at her ring finger, smiled, and said, "Oh, I will. I will.”

I meant a tombstone, of course--but she was thinking about a diamond.

It's a little riff we regularly run through.

My high school girlfriend's father, J.C., was a man of various eccentricities, but I liked him and I think he liked me, too. I was often at their house and he would say, in my hearing: "When I die, just put on my tombstone, 'He Tried.’”

Lately, I have started saying the same thing whenever Audrey and I have this conversation. And I think I really mean it.

I have tried to be a good and honest man, true to the way I was raised and taught in the ways of Jesus. Fighting various temptations that war against the soul and maintaining Christian morality in the face of constantly changing standards.

I have tried to be compassionate toward others, to share when I could with those in need. To love my neighbor as I have loved myself.

To have been a good and loving husband and father.

I have tried to be visionary, while at the same time conservative enough to hold meaningful traditions to pass on to future generations.

To be a tender pastor for my people, if not the fiery prophet some may have wanted.

I have tried to stay knowledgeable about the world and culture around me, and to be informed by disparate voices and points of view. To maintain a wide variety of friendships so that I don't live in an "echo chamber" that only reinforces my prejudices. To be able to see things through the eyes of those who have a different perspective and present their view as fairly as I argue for my own.

I have tried to stay "Woke" in the matter of racial injustice, while confessing that it is much easier for me to drift off and back to sleep in my privilege.

I have tried, through good music, poetry and the arts, to stay balanced and positive in my outlook. Optimistic about the future. Long walks on the beach have that effect, too-- the pounding of the waves on the shore as a metronome for my soul.

To be grateful for everything that has been given to me, the unique opportunities that have fallen into my lap across the years--and when all is said and done to have made the most of them.

Of course, in all these ways I have surely failed along the way. Putting "He Tried" on my tombstone would not imply that I hoped to win favor with God and thus earn my way into heaven by my conduct here on earth. No--that was settled at the cross of Christ, and is His gift of grace to me and to all who believe. My prayer, rather, is that I will have honored the LORD and demonstrated my gratitude to Him for such a marvelous, undeserved favor.

When J.C. died, several years after his daughter and I broke up and I was married to Audrey, the family asked me to speak at his funeral. That is always a privilege, if you ever get the chance. I cannot remember now if that two-word epitaph was chiseled on his tombstone--but it was certainly spoken in my eulogy for him. I made sure of that.

I hope that someone will be able to one day say the same for me.

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