I officiated my stepgrandmother's funeral yesterday. It was a small service, with a private family viewing and then a brief graveside rite. As we drove to the cemetary, I looked behind us at the line of cars following in the procession. There were maybe 6 cars. It seemed sad to me, that so few people were there. It made me think about what is really important at the end of a life. Yesterday, I thought, "I hope, when I die, there are more cars than this in my funeral processional".
It is not a matter of popularity or needing people to mourn me. It is about knowing that my life was significant, that I loved well and was loved in return. For me, the value of a life can be summed up by how well we loved, both God and others. I want to touch other lives. I want it to matter that I was here. I want to live in such a way that people feel compelled to come say goodbye to me.
At a recent funeral I officiated, for a wonderful man named Richard Cook, I was reminded about the kind of life I want to live. Person after person came by and spoke about what a great man he was, how loving he was, how gentle he was...how he was the kindest person they had ever known. I want to live my life in such a way--to leave my mark on the world by the way that I love and treat others. I want to live in such a way that when I die, people will want to be better--to live more fully, boldy, lovingly--because of my example.
I am reminded, again, of a song that has always meant a lot to me. I know I blogged about it a couple years ago, but the chorus bears repeating.
Legacy
by Nicole Nordeman
Chorus:
I want to leave a legacy
How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love?
Did I point to You enough to make a mark on things?
I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who blessed Your name unapologetically
And leave that kind of legacy
----------------
May we strive to leave a legacy of love in all that we do and say and are...so that when our lives end, we will have left a mark of grace on a multitude of hearts and lives.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Transitions
I am now a married woman...almost 7 weeks. It has been a lot easier to join my life with another person's than I ever imagined. We don't have disagreements about the toothpaste squeezing or the direction toilet paper should go on the roll. That isn't to say we don't have disagreements: we do! But it is never about the small stuff; our struggles are more about our internal demons and insecurities, trying to figure out how the other person communicates, and about finally feeling loved and safe after a lifetime of never really experiencing that with such intensity. It is a transition to trust someone to love you unconditionally and forever. It is a nice transition, but a transition nonetheless.
It is amazing to me how much of life is about transitioning. I say this as a person who just got married...then my aunt died...my dear friend's mother and father died within a month of one another...my step-grandmother died this week. Lots of death. Lots of transition.
Most of life involves change. There are very few times where life is simply "normal" and immutable. Most seasons include some kinds of transition: some happy, like marriage...others painful, like death. Most are mixed, meaning that there is happiness present at the saddest of times, and a little sorrow, even at the happiest moments.
Being human, I can't say I am overly fond of change. It doesn't bother me as much as the average person (I attribute this to being an ENFP on the Myers Briggs--that "p" part sort of thrives on change)...still, I like things to feel comfortable, normal, at rest. How often, really, is life like that? There may be a day here or there that is changeless...but for the most part, life is on the move, transition after transition.
I have always clung to the verse in Hebrews 13:8, "Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever". It gives me peace to know that whatever is changing around me, Jesus stays solid. Jesus stays the same.
The truth of God's constancy overwhelmed me during one of the recent funerals that I performed. (Please God, no more funerals...can I just get a month off from funerals?) As the pastor, it is my job to lead the body to the graveside. I walk ahead, with the pall bearers carrying the casket behind me, to the graveside. I stand there, at the head of the casket, waiting for it to be set into place. Long ago, someone told me that a pastor is meant to represent God to people--that during the significant moments of life, the pastor is there with families, reminding them that God is with them. Even when you don't say anything, as a pastor, you represent God's constant presence.
The last time I led a body to the grave, I was overwhelmed by the idea that I represented God's presence. It dawned on me that, just as I walk before the casket, God is always leading us to where we will go next. There has never been a moment when He was not present with us. There is no place we will go where He has not walked ahead. Even when we take our final breath, even then God has gone before us, to prepare a place for us.
I find it comforting that no matter how much life changes, God goes before us and after us and beside us and within us...leading, guiding, holding, healing, changing, helping, shaping, perfecting. As we face transitions that seem unknown and, perhaps, frightening, let us take comfort in our Leading God...who goes before us, every step of the way.
It is amazing to me how much of life is about transitioning. I say this as a person who just got married...then my aunt died...my dear friend's mother and father died within a month of one another...my step-grandmother died this week. Lots of death. Lots of transition.
Most of life involves change. There are very few times where life is simply "normal" and immutable. Most seasons include some kinds of transition: some happy, like marriage...others painful, like death. Most are mixed, meaning that there is happiness present at the saddest of times, and a little sorrow, even at the happiest moments.
Being human, I can't say I am overly fond of change. It doesn't bother me as much as the average person (I attribute this to being an ENFP on the Myers Briggs--that "p" part sort of thrives on change)...still, I like things to feel comfortable, normal, at rest. How often, really, is life like that? There may be a day here or there that is changeless...but for the most part, life is on the move, transition after transition.
I have always clung to the verse in Hebrews 13:8, "Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever". It gives me peace to know that whatever is changing around me, Jesus stays solid. Jesus stays the same.
The truth of God's constancy overwhelmed me during one of the recent funerals that I performed. (Please God, no more funerals...can I just get a month off from funerals?) As the pastor, it is my job to lead the body to the graveside. I walk ahead, with the pall bearers carrying the casket behind me, to the graveside. I stand there, at the head of the casket, waiting for it to be set into place. Long ago, someone told me that a pastor is meant to represent God to people--that during the significant moments of life, the pastor is there with families, reminding them that God is with them. Even when you don't say anything, as a pastor, you represent God's constant presence.
The last time I led a body to the grave, I was overwhelmed by the idea that I represented God's presence. It dawned on me that, just as I walk before the casket, God is always leading us to where we will go next. There has never been a moment when He was not present with us. There is no place we will go where He has not walked ahead. Even when we take our final breath, even then God has gone before us, to prepare a place for us.
I find it comforting that no matter how much life changes, God goes before us and after us and beside us and within us...leading, guiding, holding, healing, changing, helping, shaping, perfecting. As we face transitions that seem unknown and, perhaps, frightening, let us take comfort in our Leading God...who goes before us, every step of the way.
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