Saint Dolly

So, what’s on my mind?

Not to be insensitive, but the death of a celebrity rarely has much impact on me personally. The news usually triggers a memory of what they were famous for, followed by a moment of melancholy. Then the day rolls on. This past week was different. Last Tuesday when I got the news that Dolly Parton had passed away, my heart sank.

Of course, I did not know her, but being from the South it felt like she represented all that was good down here. She was talented, of course. She could sing, write songs, act, play instruments, run a business, and more. But I don’t think that’s what made people love her. Dolly seemed to understand something that is easy to forget when you become successful: whatever gifts we have been given are not ultimately about us. She could’ve spent her life enjoying the fruits of her success. Instead, she gave an extraordinary amount of it away.

Dolly’s Imagination Library began by giving children in her home county a free book every month. What started in East Tennessee eventually became an international program that has distributed more than 300 million books to children around the world. She gave generously to children’s hospitals and medical research. This is just one of many ways in which gave back, and she did it without making herself the center of the story.

And then there was her faith. Dolly was never shy about the fact that she was a woman of faith, a faith that was woven into her music, her life, and the way she talked about the world. She talked openly about prayer and God. She sang gospel music. She spoke about Jesus. What I find especially compelling is that her faith wasn’t just something she talked about. It showed up in what she did.

Most of us won’t sell a hundred million records or have a theme park named after us, but all of us have been given something. We have time, talents, gifts, and resources. The question is what we will do with what God has placed in our hands. Dolly Parton certainly left behind an incredible catalog of music, movies that will be watched for generations, and enough rhinestones to light up half of Tennessee. But she also left behind millions of children who grew up with books on their shelves, people whose homes were rebuilt after disasters, patients who benefited from medical research, communities that needed a helping hand when they needed it, and countless people who felt a little happier because she was in the world. That’s not a bad legacy.

May God hold you,
Rev Chris Hester