FUNERALS> Hate EM'

(Warning, you may not want to read if you are not ready to read about funerals).
Another funeral today. This time for a 38 year old man. Someone I knew a long time ago, about 20 years but someone I had met again about a year ago. He had heart failure, diabetes, lung problems, blood clots, etc. He had come to our church to "get things right". We are happy to know that he did make things right with God before he was called home.
I really try to avoid funerals, especially since Matthew was born. In my mind I don’t won’t to go near a funeral home, much less to a funeral of someone so young. I was very upset whenever a new funeral home was built not far from my house. I have to pass by it every time I go anywhere. It never fails that whenever I go towards the casket at a funeral, my mind starts racing and I immediately start thinking about Matthew. Imagining it’s Matthew’s funeral. I know that’s awful but It’s the truth. I can’t help it. I didn’t have to sing at this funeral but I have sang at many during the last few years. Each funeral it gets harder and harder for me to say I’ll go. I will not go to a funeral where there is a death of a young child. Now, I say that but who knows what I’ll do if I ever have to make that choice.
My best friend since I was about three years old died at age 30 about 7 or 8 years ago. That was the hardest funeral I had to attend. He had a wife, and two very young children. He had a blood clot go to his heart from complications of a laser surgery used on his knee. It was a great loss for everyone. He was a wonderful man.
One thing that I noticed was that when I made my way to the casket at his funeral,was that it looked like him but it wasn’t. I then realized what it meant when the Bible talks about the soul of a man and the shell of that man. The shell is just something his soul lives in until God calls them home. That’s what it looked like, a shell. I could see or feel none of his spirit that I felt when I was around him. Kind of like when you see the locust shell stuck on tree, just a shell, no life or spirit. The only thing that really shocked me was the BIG smile the morticians had put on his face. It was really too big of a smile, but that was how he was when he was alive. He had always had a smile that went from ear to ear. That’s really the only thing that made the shell in the casket look like my best friend and that's what made the funeral so hard for me.
It was the same today after I cleared my mind. Just another shell. No smiles this time.
It’s good to know that the my faith in God and His Word helps me in times like these. What about people that don't know or believe in the soul and the shell of man? How do they cope?
Another thing. What do I want people to remember me for when I die? I mean, I could die tonight. We are not promised tomorrow. I don’t want to leave this world without knowing I made a difference in someone’s life. Not remembered for my material possessions because I surely don’t have a lot of those. When should we prepare for death? When we are older? No way, not me. It’s now or it could be never. It’s hard to prepare ourselves for something we don’t even like to talk about. I can say now that If Matthew goes home before I do, it won’t be like a traditional funeral. It will be sad but it will be filled with Balloons, NO FLOWERS that only die after a few days, Teddy Bears and Bells. His little soul and sweet spirit will be all around us and he'll see us celebrating his life even though we will mourn his beautiful "shells" death. Not a lot of sad music, maybe The Wiggles, Head Shoulders, Knees and Toes and Angel Among Us. I’ll read all the poems he inspired me to write and try to sing the songs he gave me and other people can share memories they made with him. Maybe like the time he bit them because Im pretty sure he has bitten everyone now, including me again tonight on my shoulder. Or how he always smiles every morning when he wakes up with the biggest toothiest smiles you've ever seen. I have lots of things I want to do like make a short film on his life, his happy times and how he made it through when no one thought he could. I hope my funeral can be more of a celebration than a funeral. It’s hard to think of it that way but I believe it can be done. A happy and a sad time instead of all sad.
Good Night
Charlotte