Don

I'd known Don for quite a while.

He was quiet, gentle, never had a cross word nor, as his nephew pointed out today, a 'bad' word to say. He loved his wife, porridge, jigsaws and cricket. He never made a fuss, never put upon anyone and was always concerned for others' welfare.

I went to Don's funeral today. It was quite fitting: there was no drama, no fuss. Just a gathering of people fondly celebrating the life of an elderly widower who'd slipped away in a hospice.

One of his friends read this section of a psalm:

Taste and see that the Lord is good;
blessed are those who take refuge in him.
Fear the Lord, you his holy people,
for those who fear him lack nothing.
The lions may grow weak and hungry,
but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.

Although Don was never wealthy, was childless and widowed a couple of years ago, he "feared the Lord."

And he gave every appearance of lacking nothing.