A Really Good Mentor Lives On, Even After They're Gone

About this time last year, my husband and I attended the funeral service (life celebration) of one of my mentors.

It was a picture perfect day. The sky was that intense blue dotted with bright white clouds. The sunshine was warm on my back and the breeze soft on my face. The white church sat on a hill, nestled in the trees. The doors were open and the atmosphere calming.

If a picture paints a thousand words, then this picturesque setting seemed fitting for the man we were about to grieve. And celebrate.

The man who's temperament always brought peace to my spirit.

That's how I first knew that he had the power to mentor me, without even trying. His words, body language, and actions were never intimidating. Quite the contrary. Like so many others, I wanted to be around him.

I could name those things that make a good mentor, which he was. You know, things like sound advice, integrity in his own life and an attitude of putting others before himself.

But the quality he had that others didn't, took me a while longer to learn and understand.

He was a man of surrender.

Yes, surrender.

It's such an odd concept in our culture of pursuit and accomplishments.

In fact, most of us (men or women) long to prove our worth to others. Look! See how smart I am? How capable? How good I am at this or that?

Now I'm certain he must have struggled with pride, as we all do. But more often than not, he found a way to lay his pride down for the bigger picture, the better good.

He would clearly share his position, but without insistence. He gave others room to find their way.

You see, this is the profound dichotomy I learned from this mentor of mine. The surrender he sought each day is exactly what made him bold, brave and strong. It's exactly what made him victorious in the end.

Whatever was for the good of the whole, or the glory of God, he surrendered his will. More often than not.

So there we were. Sitting in the pews, the tears streaming down my face.

Tears of a grateful heart for having learned so much from this humble man.

The service was similar to his life - simple, yet profound. The following prayer hung in his home and was his favorite. His daughter read it to us, with the same resolve her father had. And it goes like this:

The Covenant Prayer

I am no longer my own but yours.

put me to what you will, rank me with whom you will;

put me to doing, put me to suffering;

let me be employed for you, or laid aside for you,

exalted for you, or brought low for you;

let me be full, let me be empty;

let me have all things, let me have nothing;

I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things to your pleasure and disposal.

And now, glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,

you are mine and I am yours.

And the covenant now made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven.

Amen.

In loving memory and tribute to the mentor who taught me surrender. Your many lessons, so unassuming, are forever with me.

Reverend Doug Fraley - born to eternal life May 25, 2016