He Did It His Way

A few months back, a co-worker of mine passed away after a long battle with cancer.  I  had worked with him since 1981, and although we did not see each other outside work, we respected each other and I considered him a friend, so I attended his funeral.

A few days later, another co-worker who had not attended the funeral asked me about the service.  I told him a few details and named some mutual acquaintances who had also been there.  Then I told him that there were  two songs played at the end of the service.  One was an old hymn.  The other was Frank Sinatra's standard "I Did It My Way." I remarked that I thought that song was very appropriate for the man who had died, and he agreed.  Then he told me that his minister does not allow that song to be played or sung at funerals that are held in his church.  He allows it at the cemetery, but not at the church.

I thought about that, and I didn't like it much.  I guess I understand the minister's position.  He obviously equates doing things "my way" as the equivalent of disobeying God, or perhaps not being humble enough.

However, I take a different view.  Our co-worker who had died was a complex man.  He could be stubborn and argumentative.  He was often unforgiving to those he felt wronged him, and he held grudges.  He was confrontational and believed in winning by intimidation.  He always said what he thought about everyone and everything, and he didn't care who had a problem with that.  You never had to wonder what he thought, because he would always tell you without any effort to sugar-coat anything.

However, he was also hard-working and passionate about doing a good job.  He loved to work, and continued in his job well past the age when he could have retired.  He and his wife raised and showed  quarter horses, and they enthusiastically enjoyed that endeavor as long as their health allowed.  If he gave you hell, the way to earn his respect was to give it right back.  When you did that, he would often smile a little as if he was glad you had stood up to him. He was loyal to those whom he respected, and under his rough exterior, he loved people.  He faced the cancer that eventually killed him with courage and dignity, and he was open and honest about the toll the disease and the treatments took on him, both physically and emotionally.  He never gave way to hopelessness, and he continued to work until he literally could no longer come to the office.

In other words, my friend lived and died on his own terms.  He was completely and unabashedly himself, the way God had made him.  He had faults and he could be difficult, but he lived life enthusiastically, and he completely enjoyed the things he did and the life he lived.  In other words, he did it his way.

I believe that God was fine with that.



Copyright © 2015 by Steven W. Fouse