Live a good life

When we first came to Scott City, I had zero experience at pastoring a church. Zero! What's that old saying? I was still wet behind my ears! I had studied how to preach and studied the Word, but I had zero experience. But my wife and I jumped in with both feet. Some things we did well, but there were some things we stumbled at. Words can't express how much she helped me!

One thing that I really struggled with was handling the death of those attached to the Church and those in the community. A dear saint in the church was sick and was facing death. I wasn't sure what to do. I knew I needed to visit so I went almost daily, but when I went to visit I wasn't sure what to say. This dear saint realized I was a fish out of water, so she helped me walk with her through death. When it came time to preach JoAnne's funeral service, I knew what to say. Ollie Amick, the funeral director here in Scott City, showed me what to do.

Since then I have no clue as to how many funerals I've preached. There have been a bunch of them. Some have been for individuals I didn't know. Those are difficult. Some have been for individuals I kind of knew. These were easier. Then I've preached over good friends of mine. These are easy to preach but hard losing a good friend. Many times there have been tears in my eyes.

We hadn't been in Scott City very many years when a guy I met and came to know asked me to preach his funeral. He was my age so there was no way to guarantee this. I told him he may have to preach mine rather than me do his. He was pretty emphatic that I'd be doing his. He was a cool dude. We became good friends down through the years. I liked Harley. Several years ago, I preached his funeral message.

One old gentleman in our church was pretty sickly. He had all kinds of medical problems, but I don't believe I ever heard him complain. He had a pinky finger that was stiff, and he couldn't bend it or even close his hand. He couldn't get his hand in his pants pocket with the pinky like it was. He went to the Doctor and told him to whack it off. Doc was surprised, but he understood. So Lester ended up with four fingers on one hand.

Lester told me, "Phillips, when it's time to preach my funeral, you tell the truth! Don't stand up there and lie and say how good I was. Tell the truth. And I did. I still miss him and think of him every time I drive down Main Street. Darn good guy.

Several weeks ago my daughter-in-law lost her father. I don't know how to describe him other than to say he was a really good guy. We met about 25 years ago and became good friends. He liked to garden, so we could always talk about gardening and the bugs and whether we were getting tomatoes. Leroy liked to sit and visit and drink coffee. He was my kind of guy. I felt it was a privilege saying the last words for him.

I rode out to the mausoleum with him in the hearse. I've liked to do this with all those I have preached over. It's my way of escorting then to their final resting place. I did this for Leroy.

If I could offer any advice to young or old, especially the young, it would be to live your life so that at some point in the future the preacher can say, "He was a good guy. He lived a good life." At every chance along this journey of life help someone now and then. Not for the recognition, but simply to help someone in need.