These newsletters are focused on your professional and personal success - now - while you are living. But each of us will die and, for some, our final words will be remembered.
A woman in her 50s was a student in a course I was teaching. She shared that her dying mother's final words were: "I told you you would never amount to anything." Years later that woman was struggling to prove her mother wrong.
So on my recent trip to Honduras with my teenage son, I was captivated by a very different story of final words.
Charlie Smith was a visionary and entrepreneur. Fifteen years ago this month he succumbed to pulmonary fibrosis. An American, Charlie chose to die in Honduras, his adopted country among his adopted people. Canchias is a tiny village at the end of the road. It is there that Charlie had chosen to invest his life in developing a model village offering education, healthcare, decent living conditions, meaningful work, and spiritual formation (click here to read more about he ministry he led: Heart to Honduras).
On the top of a hill overlooking the village, Charlie struggled to draw his final breaths. He said to Jimmy, a dear friend who was with him, "Don't bury me in my jeans." Jimmy leaned down to make sure he was hearing him. "What?" "Don't bury me in my jeans. Bury me in my shorts. My jeans are not worn out and there's a Honduran who can wear them."
As I write this I am sitting in my office surrounded by stuff of all sorts, including six boxes I haven't opened in years. If I die today and I had time to utter consciously selected final words, I wouldn't be thinking about my jeans or the poor of this world who might wear them. I've got too much other clutter to be that focused. Instead I would offer words of love and affirmation - puffy clouds of well-intentioned blessing, but it would never dawn on me to be focused on the physical needs of others.
I'm not suggesting that Charlie's words are better than those I might choose. I am suggesting that there was a focus to his life and ministry that is admirable.
What I'm asking is this: What is your life about - really? What are you doing to influence those around you for good? When you die, what message would you like to leave to others? Charlie knew what his life was about and what he wanted to communicate. I never met Charlie, but I admire him, his life, and the clarity of his final words.