How Will You Be Remembered

I was straightening my office today and paused to look at a photograph I have on my wall next to my bookshelf wall. I had put some things away and looked up to see the photo of the church I was raised in. It was one of those "everyone in the front of the church" pictures, taken outside, probably at the end of the morning service. I was about 5 years old in the picture, so I don't remember the event. My grandfather was right in front. He was the founding pastor of the church and pastored it until he passed away in 1966. He was just 65 years old and died of cancer. In the years just prior to his passing, he had purchased a 10 acre plot of land and had built a barn, utility room and pump house on the land. He bought a house from a military base and had it moved onto the property. For all of my growing up years I was his shadow. I suspect I didn't help much, and probably got in the way some, but I was always with him. Sadly, he never got to retire on that land. Whenever I think about him I have instant recall of his face. It is as vivid today as it was any day I was with him. Sometimes the grief I feel, even now, is so intense that I can hardly stand it. I have broken down more than once, telling about experiences with my grandfather. One of the biggest regrets I have is that he never got to see me become a minister, receive my ordination credentials and hear me preach or lead a choir. I never got to "pick his minister's brain" or ask him professional advice.

Once a wave of grief passed, today, I sat at my desk and did something I had never done before. I Googled my grandfather's name. Nemias Ruybalid. The first two items that came up were blogs that I had written about him. There were several items that had either his first name or his last name, and none were related to him. The last one on the page was a Social Security website that listed dates of birth and dates of death. I clicked on it and scrolled down to his name. Interestingly enough, my grandmother's record was just above his, even though she lived to be 92. All the record showed was my grandfather's birth date and the month and year of his death.

I thought to myself, "maybe I should write a Wiki page for him. There is so much to tell about this wonderful man who left much too early." How will you and I be remembered? Will someone Google your name 45 years after your death? One thing I remember about my grandpa was that I could see Christ in him. That's how I want to be remembered, that someone could say that they saw Christ in me.