You probably already think that I’m just a little left of center, and that’s okay.  So today’s post really shouldn’t surprise you at all. 

I’m planning my funeral.  Some of you know this about me already, and no one has completely wigged on me yet.  (Though I have not been spared the curious looks and occasional raised eyebrow.)  No, I am not planning on going anywhere.  But that’s just the point, isn’t it?  No one ever plans on leaving.  Not me, anyway. 

But for the sake of Dom and the kids, I decided several years ago that this was something I needed to get ironed out before it became necessity.  Let’s face it: when a funeral has to be planned because of immediate need, there is shock and sadness and all kinds of grief-stricken memories attached to the planning, which is often done by relatives and friends because the people most affected by the loss can’t seem to function properly.  That’s how I believe I would be, anyway, if something were to happen to Dom.  I already told him they could just dig the hole big enough for two if he goes before I do. 

I was discussing this matter today with a coworker who lost a loved one last week.  She talked about how the family was in such shock, that she considered planning her funeral so that her sons won’t have to do it later.  I shared what I have done so far, and I think it made her feel a little less creepy about it.  In turn, she reminded me of a mutual friend’s loss of her husband several years ago.  Mr. B.  had prepared a book of every important piece of information, and that book got Mrs. B. through the initial stages of carrying on after he was gone.  The book comprised account numbers, insurance policy information, bill schedules, passwords…basically, everything he knew would need to be known by his wife if he were no longer there.  It’s a beautiful idea, and one that I intend to adopt as well. 

So, while I am attached to certain hymns and readings, and I have full function of my senses, I have prepared my funeral program and picked out my headstone.  All details of my funeral, burial and final wishes are contained on a CD, copies of which are here at home and at work.  And when the planning of something so final seems just a bit overwhelming, I turn to this:

“No person lives one day more or less than God intends.  ‘All the days planned for me were written in your book before I was one day old’ (Psalm 139:16).

“But her days here were so few…We speak of a short life, but compared to eternity, who has a long one? A person’s days on earth may appear as a drop in the ocean.  Yours and mine may even seem like a thimbleful.  But compared to the Pacific of eternity, even the years of Methuselah filled no more than a glass…

“In God’s plan every life is long enough and every death is timely.  And though you and I might wish for a longer life, God knows better.”

From Traveling Light by Max Lucado

Excerpt displayed in Grace for the Moment daily calendar and inspiration from the writings of Max Lucado.

In reality there is no part of death that I can control.  I can only impact how I live.  And this is actually quite comforting to me.  For all the worry and the complaining and the nagging that I have done, I pray that the manner in which I live this life – and the purpose with which I live it – is worthy of the time I am allowed on earth.