Be A Joe

Yesterday I attended the funeral of Joe Coates. He lived to the wonderful age of 92. At his funeral we had the chance to celebrate and bear witness to someone who lived life well. He loved his Lord and Saviour - Jesus, he loved his family and he loved his farm. He left an indelible mark on many people in that small farming community, including me.

I first met Joe when I was 11 years old. My family had just moved to a new community, where my dad would be pastoring the local church. Joe showed up on a Saturday morning with a lawn tractor in the back of his farm truck, ready to cut the grass around the parsonage, cemetery and church. Having moved from a mid-sized town to a rural community I jumped at the chance to learn how to cut the grass with a riding mower. He happily obliged, showed me how to lower the deck, engage the cutting blades, operate the throttle and brake. He showed me how close to cut to the tombstones without knocking them over and how to sit on the edge of the seat to cut the sloped yard at the edge of the property. That was almost forty years ago and I can still vividly remember that day.

As our family settled into life in a new community Mr. Coates (I only started calling him Joe later in life) was always available to lend a helping hand. He could fix plumbing issues, take care of any electrical issue and was always present for big jobs to be done around the church and parsonage. I can remember him coming to fix some frozen pipes in our house on a frigid Christmas morning. I never heard him complain the whole time he mucked around in the room under the garage with freezing cold water and ice. That was Joe, he was always available to help, with a smile, a soft kind word, and a firm handshake.

In a world of AI, social media and influencers, Joe was a good reminder about priorities and leaving a legacy. People don't remember you for a witty post, a goofy video or some hot take on how to use the latest technology. They remember you for helping, for taking time to be available, for humbly getting a job done, for a warm smile, and a firm handshake. At the end of my life I hope I'm remembered the same way. 

Be a Joe.