10. Make your own bucket list.

What would you like to have done before departing this earthly scene for heavenly realms? Build a plane? Jump out of a plane? Fly a plane as the pilot? Or just take a ride on a plane? Put it on your list.

We’re all so different, no two people’s bucket list will be alike. Some years back, I would have put toward the top of my list to attend the annual meeting of the National Cartoonists Society. These men and women are the heroes, so to speak, of this cartooning business, the best there are, and some are household names in America. I own original cartoons from many of them, drawings they did for their newspaper strips which are now signed, framed, and (mostly) displayed on the walls of my home. In the study where I’m working at this moment, 13 original cartoons are staring down upon me.

I’m past the groupie stage of cartooning, for the most part, so that would no longer be on my list. So, lists vary and they have a way of changing.

Make your own list.

9. Postpone your bucket-kicking event.

I’m not one who believes a day was calendared for your death the moment you arrived on the planet. There seems to be a lot of it’s-your-call involved in how long we live and when we die, based on how we take care of ourselves and the risks we take.

To postpone the time of our departure simply means to do a few basic things that should increase the length of our lives:

–eat better. More fresh fruits and veggies, and fewer fries and chips and empty calory-type foods such as cola drinks.

–exercise more. Take walks, do stretching routines, buy some small weights from Wal-Mart or an athletic store and tone up your flesh.

–have a full checkup with your doctor. You’ll have to take the initiative with this. If you call your doctor’s office and say, “I want a checkup,” unless he/she knows you, what you’ll get will be fairly worthless. Tell the doctor’s nurse you want a) a complete head-to-toe examination, b) blood work, and c) a colonoscopy (if you are 50 or older). If you are female and have not had mammograms as recommended, schedule one of those too.

–ask your doctor or a nutritionist to tell you what vitamins to take each day. In the 1990s, my primary care physician at Ochsner’s Foundation Hospital in New Orleans put me on a regimen of vitamins and a baby aspirin each day. She said, “Mr. McKeever, I think we have just prevented a heart attack in you.”

–lose some weight. Quit smoking. Laugh more. Get up off the couch, turn off the television (or computer!), and get outside. Go to the park with your children or grandchildren. Toss a frisbee or football. Laugh some more. Enjoy a snow-cone in some weird flavor (they’re called snowballs around here).

8. Widen yourself.

For one year, try this: each week visit your local library and spend a minimum of one hour in the periodicals section. This is the sitting area with tables and chairs and with magazines on display. Take down several magazines you have never heard of and flip through them. Read anything that attracts your attention.

If you are a preacher or teacher, always have a notepad handy. I guarantee you are going to run into fascinating articles with information you’ll want to remember. And think what fun it will be when you stand before your group and say, “The other day, I was reading an article in Rolling Stone magazine….” Or, Electronics Monthly. Or, Archaeology in Zimbabwe.

You may discover a new career this way. (It’s been done, believe me.) And if nothing else, you’ll broaden your scope.

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The overwhelming proof of the lostness of mankind is that people rarely look up from the humdrum existence of their daily lives to ask, “Where is all this headed? What is out there? Where are we going?”

In a 1965 sermon reprinted in the May 2010 issue of “Decision” magazine, Billy Graham tells of the time when Robert Ingersoll, well-known atheist of the 19th century, was addressing an audience in a small town in New York. The orator forcefully laid out his doubts concerning a future judgement and the reality of hell.

At the conclusion, a drunk stood up in the back of the room, and said through slurred speech, “I sure hope you’re right, Brother Bob. I’m counting on that!”

Billy Graham commented, “Modern man does not like to think of God in terms of wrath, anger and judgment. He likes to make God according to his own ideas and give God the characteristics he wants Him to possess. Man wants to remake God to conform to his own wishful thinking, so that he can make himself comfortable in his sins.”

That struck a note with me. I had just been reading where someone did just that.

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“The Son of Man has come to seek and save those who were lost” (Luke 19:10).

Someone asked Daniel Boone if in all his wilderness travels he had ever been lost. “No,” he drawled, “but once I was bewildered for three whole days.”

Bewildered in a wilderness. Sounds like the place to do that.

The great difficulty in rescuing the lost–the assignment God’s children have been handed by the Lord Jesus–is compounded when the subjects do not realize their dire situation.

How would one go about convincing a lost person he was lost? And why do that in the first place?

Clearly, if one is on-board the damaged Titanic and while scurrying to get off the doomed vessel with as many survivors as possible, he runs into partying passengers without the slightest awareness of their situation, he needs to tell them. He will want to alarm them even, and convince them to take action to save themselves. Whether they will listen is another story.

If we know the hurricane is coming and this neighborhood is about to be destroyed, we will do all in our power to alert the residents.

The days of our lives are finite and this world is doomed. Someone needs to tell the passengers.

In trying to alert the Titanic’s guests or the residents of the Lower Ninth Ward the day before Katrina, you would learn far more about the lostness of mankind in a few minutes than in all the years of your life to that point.

Anyone trying to save the lost–whether at sea, in penthouses having the time of their lives, in prisons, or sitting in comfortable pews with hymnals in their laps–is going to run into a number of realities concerning this condition.

Most lost people do not know they are lost. And many do not care.

The corollary to that is that God’s people often do not seem to know people are lost either. We get taken in by the impressive house they live in, the expensive clothes they wear, their suave manner, or by their religious ardor. If they are really cool, as celebrities and politicians are cool, we’re tempted to give them a pass.

Lost is lost. People without God are in big trouble.

Here are some of the ways we know man is lost.

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Last Tuesday morning, TV celeb Julia Louis-Dreyfus received a star in the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Well known–okay, she’s famous–as Elaine on “Seinfeld” and starring in the current hit “The New Adventures of Old Christine,” Julia had arrived, she thought (as she arrived?).

But then she noticed something. The star had her name misspelled.

Whoever had made the star had her name as “Julia Luis Dreyfus.” No hyphen and “Louis” was missing the “o.”

Julia called it “a great metaphor for show business. Right when you think you’ve made it, you get knocked down.”

“(It’s) how this business works,” she laughed.

I read somewhere that the celebrity or his/her supporters have to shell out $10,000 for the privilege of receiving one of those stars. So it’s not quite the honor it appears to be. And then they get your name wrong.

It’s no fun being humbled, particularly in public.

I’ve told on these pages how as a new pastor in Charlotte, NC, nearly a quarter of a century ago, I had the church purchase a nice ad to tell the city of our Sunday services (as well as, ahem, our new pastor). We laid it out, the newspaper’s people assured us it would be done just as we said, and all was well. The brand-spanking new pastor would be suitably announced and welcomed.

Saturday’s paper came and I eagerly turned to the appropriate page. There was our ad. It was indeed attractive. But wait–are my eyes deceiving me? Can this be right?

Underneath my picture, the ad read, “Dr. I. M. Pastor.”

I’m not making this up.

It turned out that this was a little in-house joke the advertising department played when laying out an ad. For a banking ad, the line would read, “I. M. Banker,” that sort of thing. But they always changed the line before it went to press. Except this time they didn’t.

On Sunday, my congregation was not sure what to think. Most had not seen it, and those who had were puzzled. Some said, “Our pastor has this quirky sense of humor.” He has that, I suppose, but he also has enough insecurity about himself not to pull such a self-deprecating stunt.

It was a tad funny, a good bit embarrassing, and completely humbling. An inauspicious beginning to what turned out to be the most difficult three years of my life.

I was reminded of the role humility can play by something that happened this week when someone asked a question about Bible prophecy.

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A friend and I, both adjunct professors at our local Baptist seminary, were doing one of our favorite things: drinking coffee and talking about students, classes, theology, and such.

He said, “I tell my students there is one huge thing they must understand about human nature: people are stupid.”

I laughed, “Could you find some more theologically correct way of putting that?”

He said, “I mean it. Think about it. They can not be counted on to do even the most basic thing in life–look out for their own best interests.”

If that’s the definition of stupid–working against one’s own welfare–then it’s hard to argue with my friend.

–The drivers on the interstate around here comprise the alpha and omega of this argument for my money. Watch them risking their future and the lives of their riders for a little more speed, a little better position, a few more thrills. After watching a daredevil scoot in and out of narrow slots in high-speed traffic while endangering everyone around him, we would like to ask that driver, “Friend, was it worth what you risked to gain a little better position on the highway?”

We don’t do that, of course. We already know the answer: he wasn’t thinking. He was responding to the adrenalin in his system. He was not in control of his thinking. He was acting stupid.

–The daily newspaper in any city in America will furnish all the anecdotal evidence for the self-destructiveness of humanity. A medical doctor loses his license and livelihood and goes to prison for selling prescriptions for controlled substances, all for a little more money. A politician who was making a hundred thousand a year sells his influence for a tiny fraction of that, and ends up losing everything.

Friends who live a few miles west of New Orleans were all abuzz the other night. Helicopters were hovering over their homes. When a woman went out to put her garbage on the curb, a policeman suggested she stay in the house. The next morning, the newspaper announced that cops had arrested three people who had robbed a bank in that area. They had pulled ski masks over their faces, held up the bank, and then sped away. Witnesses called 911 and they were apprehended. They “owned” the loot from the robbery for a few hours; they will pay for that with 20 years of their lives.

–A respected pastor with a long record of service to God and the church “falls in love” with his secretary, a deacon’s wife, a counselee, or the church organist. To “fulfill his needs,” he breaks the hearts of his wife and chiildren, breaks the trust of thousands who have respected and followed his leadership, and breaks the vows he made to God.

What are you thinking?

“I wasn’t thinking,” one man told me. “I was stupid.”

In listening to such a confession, no hearer delights in the self-destructive behavior of the penitent. For there is one inescapable fact that looms over this entire conversation:

We are all stupid; we have all done self-destructive things. None are faultless.

And that is the saddest thing I know. People are so lost.

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20. Cater lunch for the entire church.

Now, if your name is Clyde Etheridge (a deacon in my church), then you’ll not need to cater it; you can feed everyone yourself. I was in the church office this week when Clyde walked in and asked Julie, my daughter-in-law and the pastor’s administrative assistant, if the bulletin had been done for Sunday. He inserted a note that next Wednesday night’s meal would be a Mexican feast in honor of Cinco de Mayo. He said, “I’ve never done this before, but it might be fun.”

I admire people who can do this. I’m not one of them.

A few weeks ago, as we were completing a five-day meeting at Salem Baptist Church in lovely Brundidge, Alabama, Pastor Bobby Hood informed the congregation that they were all to stay for lunch on Sunday. “Sue and I are providing it for you.” They paid to have it catered for the entire church.

I said, “Bobby, how do you do that?” He smiled, “With a check.”

Smart aleck.

My siblings and I once did it for the entire church back at Nauvoo, Alabama, on the Sunday following our reunion, but I’ve never tried it by myself. An interesting idea.

19. Write down the story of your life.

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30. Make up your own bucket list.

These fifty are only suggestions, some of them mine and some from Facebook friends. Not everything will suit you; find those that do.

A friend who works with the Baptist churches across Montana suggested no one should go to Heaven without first visiting the Big Sky state. I’m not sure everyone will want that on their list, but there it is.

Someone else suggested sky diving and bungee jumping. Not for me, thanks. But you will have your own list.

29. Make a will.

You’d be surprised how few Christians have wills stating what is to be done with all they leave behind after their death. I suspect it’s because we don’t want to think about dying, don’t want to have to arrange to see a lawyer, or think we’re far too young for this sort of thing.

Read the ages in the people across your newspaper’s obituary page today and decide for yourself. I just turned 70 and fully half the people making today’s obits are younger than I am.

In most cases, you simply leave everything to your children to be divided equally. But if they’re small, you’ll still want to name their guardians in case you and your spouse depart simultaneously. And then, the lawyer will think of questions to ask that never occurred to you.

The Baptist Foundation in whatever state convention your church is part of will have a type of kit to assist you in thinking this through. After filling out the information it asks for, you could take that to your lawyer and simplify the process.

28. Wash someone’s feet.

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Maybe we shouldn’t be hating death as much as we used to.

Ever since our Lord Jesus went to the cross and pulled its fangs, descended into grave and recovered the keys, then rose from the tomb as the first fruits of eternal life, the poor ogre has lost his threat.

He still growls but all his rantings are just so much bumping his gums.

Maybe we ought to pity death.

Like a honeybee that has lost its stinger but is still flying around scaring people, death can no longer do any kind of significant damage to all who are in Jesus Christ.

No more fear, Christian. It’s all gone.

“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” (I Cor. 15:55)

Hebrews 2:14 puts this in an unforgettable way: “He Himself partook of (flesh and blood) that through death He might render powerless him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and might deliver those who through fear of death were subject to bondage all their lives.”

Defeat the devil, deliver the hostages.

Big task. Great victory. Huge celebration–one that’s still going on.

Thank you, Lord, for that incredible weekend, one that changed life forever on this third rock from the sun.

A few years back, Franklin Graham was speaking to the Southern Baptist Convention in Indianapolis about his wonderful parents. His father, Billy Graham, at home recovering from a couple of major surgeries, was experiencing constant pain. His mother, Ruth Bell Graham, no longer able to walk, was living in a wheelchair. (She has since gone to be with the Lord.)

Franklin said, “The other day, Daddy hobbled into Mother’s bedroom and said, ‘I feel so bad. I feel like the Lord is ready to take me home.’ Mother said, ‘That must feel wonderful.'”

As we laughed, Franklin said, “He won’t get any sympathy from Mother!”

I feel bad enough to die. That’s awful.

When I die, I’m going to Heaven. That’s wonderful.

That’s how it is with believers in this age: “caught betwixt the two,” as Paul expressed it in Philippians 1:23.

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Today, Sunday, was a day of funerals.

Our family gathered at the family church near Nauvoo, Alabama, and laid to rest my 41-year-old nephew, Russell McKeever, who died last Thursday of pneumonia and heart failure.

Two hours later, the convention center in Beckley, West Virginia, was packed as families and friends of the 29 miners killed in Coalmont, WV three weeks ago gathered for a memorial service. President Obama and Vice-President Biden spoke and did well. The most touching part of the service may have been the president simply reading the names of all 29. Then family members walked by the 29 miners helmets and turned on each of the lamps.

I sat there taking it in, feeling as though I had an apple stuck in my throat.

When a man sang “Go Up High Upon the Mountain,” that did it for me. In 2006, that Vince Gill song played a prominent role at the funeral of my youngest brother, Charlie, the father of Russell. Charlie had for a time been a coal miner, too. When he left the mines, it was to drive trucks on the open highway, an equally hazardous career.

Raleigh County, West Virginia, is where we lived when my dad and all his brothers worked in the mines just a few miles from Coalmont. Dad’s father, George McKeever, and all his brothers were miners too. George died of a heart attack in his mid-40s. All his brothers died too young, including one named Joe McKeever, who barely made it out of his 40s.

Furthermore, all my dad’s brothers with the possible exception of the youngest battled emphysema–black lung–the rest of their days.

When we no longer had a family member inside the mines no one shed a tear. It’s a cruel, scary life. Many a night as a child I lay awake, praying for God to keep my dad safe down inside that mountain.

After working inside the mines for 35 years, Dad took disability when he was 49, then lived into his 96th year. I’ll never quit thanking the Lord for that.

The Coalmont miners ranged in age from young adults to nearing retirement.

Russell hardly made it out of his 30s.

“Life really is fair,” someone said after the unexpected death of his wife. “Sooner or later it breaks the heart of every person.”

Recently, while reading “Appetite for America,” the story of Fred Harvey’s restaurant empire across the southwest in the late 1800s and the first half of the 20th century, I was struck by how young these people were when they died.

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In looking over the ten items-in-our-bucket so far, it occurs to me that I may be stepping into a little trap here: listing only what I’ve already done. I’ve been to the Holy Land, memorized chapters, that sort of thing. How convenient for me this would be, and how pointless.

So, I promise to try to keep it honest here and speak to myself as well as to the rest of us.

40. Pay off everything and get out of debt.

Is this a “Christian” goal? Or just something that would be good for everyone to do? In Scripture, one reason for believers having money in the first place is so that we may be generous. One of the great hindrances to our generosity is the heavy debt load we stagger under. We’d like to give to help those poor people or to support the missionary, but we don’t have it to give.

If we paid off our debts and did not incur additional financial burdens, think how liberating that would be.

The question is how.

Answer: live simply, get everyone in the household behind this goal, say no to expensive choices such as eating out or purchasing entertainment centers or new cars, and double up on the existing payments. If you have too many credit cards, cut all but one or two up and close the accounts. The way I understand Galatians 5:22-23, discipline or self-control is a part of the fruit of the Spirit. You’ll be needing it to get control of your finances, so it’s good to know the Lord wants to produce it in us.

39. Find your spiritual gift and put it to use.

According to the Bible (Romans 12 and I Corinthians 12), every believer is gifted by the Holy Spirit with a spiritual capability. We can only dream of how effective the Christian community would be if we all claimed our gift and put it to use for the Lord. My hunch is less than one-third of the members of a typical church even make an effort toward this.

Rather than take some kind of printed inventory that purports to tell you what your spiritual gift is, my suggestion is rather that you try a lot of things. To find out if your spiritual gift is teaching, sit in on Bible study classes, then volunteer either to substitute for the teacher or to assist him/her. To find out if your gift is in “helps,” volunteer to assist in some kind of project–a church banquet, a Vacation Bible school, a youth camp–and try your hand at it.

The best way to recruit people to the place where the Lord has prepared them is simply to expose them to various kinds of ministries. Their spirit will respond to the right one.

38. Develop some latent talent such as for music or art.

Often when I’m sketching people, someone will say, “I used to enjoy art. I just got away from it.” I suggest that they get back to it.

When churches began having orchestras in worship services, members remembered their old high school saxophones or clarinets gathering dust in closets. They cleaned them up, began practicing, and now they play in church every Sunday. For some, this has opened up a new world.

I’ve known retirees who began taking piano lessons for the first time. “I’ve always wanted to play,” they would say. They’ll not turn into concert pianists, and that’s not their goal. It’s something for their own growth and fulfillment.

Take a cooking class. Find out when your local plant nursery is having classes on growing roses and sign up. The local art store has postings for new classes all over town, from beginners to intermediate to accomplished. Ask the Red Cross about classes for CPR and lifesaving training.

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