2.14.2008



This picture was taken at Keith's grandparent's farm outside of Satesboro, South Georgia. Mastine and Big D. We were privileged to spend some time down there with them over Christmas. Today we're going back for Mastine's funeral. We thought about death this morning, comforted one another and mourned our grandparents. Keith said, we become familiar with the concept, but still cannot understand. The bitter sweetness of desperately missing presence yet rejoicing in the real imagination of encounter with true, pure eternity. We thought of the analogy of our approaching wedding, and the true, actual realization of that marriage--made one and face to face with Christ--that comes in the death that parts us from this world and from one another. We cried over the reality of "till death do us part" which will inevitably one day be real for us as well. and yet i know, deep down in the heart of the place where you store deep, supernatural knowledge, that there is beauty and peace and promise in death. and we encounter it, and learn it, in death that is the leaving behind of a legacy of love and faith. 

Written by my father at his father's death this November...

    Arthur Harry MacCorkle

    July 12, 1927 – November 19, 2007 

         “He has showed you, O man, what is good.  
           And what does the LORD require of you?  
           To act justly and to love mercy  
           and to walk humbly with your God.”  (Micah 6:8)
     


We can’t think of any words that more completely describe the heart of Arthur MacCorkle.  We’re so blessed to have lived with him as our dad, and as our example of what is really important about how a man should live his life.  

He loved his family, he loved his friends, and he loved his fellow man.  Mostly, he loved his wonderful bride and he counted himself the luckiest of men that she was his. He cared deeply about the needs of people he didn’t even know.  And he refused to sit out life when he still had it in him to help someone else.  He was comfortable with who he was, but he never thought he was more important than anyone else.  At the refinery, he may have been the boss, but he was the one they respected as a leader and a friend.  In retirement, he filled his life with service and fellowship and an abundant enjoyment of life. And for over 60 years, so many young men’s lives were touched by his dedicated service to Scouting.

  

He lived a life grounded and anchored by his faith in a God of mercy and grace.  His faith was not complicated, it was just very real and it made him who he was: 

    “…that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and may please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light.” (Colossians 1:10-11) 


He was Mom’s best friend and their love was so special, so complete and so much fun.  Their marriage was everything that God intends between a husband and wife.  Companionship, romance, respect, delight – through good times and hard times – they cherished every day they had together. 

He was a wonderful father and grandfather.  Always there for each of us, no matter what our needs were.  He didn’t treat us all the same – he treated us the way we needed him to.  There were no limits to his love and no conditions to meet. He simply loved us each with everything in him.  He would do anything to help us, he was our biggest fan and he loved sharing life with us.  He delighted in being surrounded by his grandchildren at Pop-Pop’s lake and he loved watching them grow up. 

Today Dad has passed on to be with the Lord in heaven.  He has left his wheelchair and he can dance again with the saints. 

    “Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope.”  (1 Thessalonians 4:13)

We will miss him, we will grieve for a time and will depend on the peace of the Lord that passes all understanding.  Mostly, we will celebrate his life and the memories we’ve shared.  And we will give thanks that he was our Dad and our Pop-Pop. 


 

1 comment:

Matthew said...

I'm saddened to hear about PopPop. Your dad had some great words for the occasion though, and your words - there is beauty and peace and promise in death - ring true. thanks for sharing this elaine.