my eulogy.

I'm a quarter of a century old, and I've heard a lot of eulogies.

I heard my first one when I was 12 and my Granddaddy died of lung cancer. I don't really remember what the preacher said, I was too distracted by trying to decide who's tears were a cause of the bitter cold winter wind and who was actually crying.

Since 2002, I have heard eulogies preached for five friends. From classmates and acquaintances to childhood friends and best friends, things like brain aneurysms and car crashes have taken people my age and I've heard eulogies.

The youngest person's eulogy I've heard was almost two years old. A baby girl with a fatal heart condition.

I'm a quarter of a century old and I'm well acquainted with death.

I remember when I was younger, after the first person in my high school freshman class passed away, I laid awake at night thinking about my own eulogy, and what I would want said if it was me in that coffin a few weeks before my 16th birthday.

And then when I was 18, a close friend made a series of poor choices and ended up in rehab. They had to write their own eulogies, he told me. I thought again, "what would I want mine to say, if it was me?"

On December 20, 2010, I got the call that one of my closest childhood friends had died. I went through the visitation line five times before it registered with me. I sat through her funeral and burial. I heard her eulogy. And again I thought, "What do I want them to say about me?" Because, reality: one day, it will be me.

I am well acquainted with death. And I am not afraid. To me, there are much worse things than dying. Thinking about my own eulogy does not scare me, it excites me. It forces me to see the difference in how I want to be remembered and how I will actually be remembered. It is so important to be sure the two are matching up.

This week I have been reading through the book of Job. After all these years of thinking about what I want them to say about me when I'm the one in the grave, I have found it, in scripture. When I'm gone, I want there to be more to say than that I was "a good friend, a good wife, a good daughter, a good mother, a nice person." Sure, I want them to say that I "lit up a room" and had a "contagious smile." But there's gotta be more.

I want to be remembered for more.

I want them to be able to read Job 29:12-16 at my funeral and everyone in the room agree that this is who I was. That this is what I was about. All for God's glory, not for my own.

"...I delivered the poor who cried for help,

and the fatherless who had none to help him.

The blessing of him who was about to perish

came upon me,

and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.

I put on righteousness, and it clothed me;

my justice was like a robe and a turban.

I was eyes to the blind and feet to the lame.

I was a father to the needy,

and I searched out the cause of him whom I did not know."

 

What about you? What about your eulogy?

What will they say, when it's you in the coffin?

 

Because, reality: one day, it is going to be me.

And it is going to be you.

 

What do you want them to say?