Let It Be Said of Me

Recently, my sister (I think) commented on a blog entry I wrote in October 2010.  She said that one of the lines from a song I quoted is one that she hopes is considered for her gravestone.  It reads, "...the night of weeping shall be the morn of song."  Then she wrote that she wanted the song from which it's taken, "The Church's One Foundation," to be played at her funeral.   Almost as an afterthought, she included another line, "The praises won't end; I won't be silenced by the grave!"  That's fitting for her.  She plays the piano beautifully and she sings with perfect pitch and she loves to praise God.

My writer friend and I had a conversation years ago about what we wanted played at our funerals or written on our gravestones.  She said that if she lived a short life she wanted her gravestone to say something about being Home at last, as if to say even this short time on Earth is a long sojourn Home.  I've always wanted 2 Timothy 2:7 on my gravestone: "I have fought the fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."  I also like, from Job 42:5, "My ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you."  And if we had placed a gravestone for Baby Zion, I would have inscribed: "Fly to Jesus . . . and live."

Morbid conversation?  Perhaps.  But, at the end of the day, we're all going to leave a legacy.  There will be something about us, good or bad, that will be left behind.  They'll say things at our funerals about how we lived and what they'll miss about us.  It could be that we were generous.  It could be that we were faithful friends.  It could be that we made a lot of money, wrote a lot of books, painted a lot of pictures.  Or, it could be hard to find nice things to say about us.  Any way you look at it, though, there will be something.

I hope that when I'm gone people will remember me as someone who loved well.  I like to laugh and make people laugh, so I'd like them to say that I was funny and a good writer and someone who loves to worship.  I hope that they can truly say--that I can say and believe--that I have fought the fight, finished the race, and kept the faith.  I want people to remember the words I've written and the way they made them feel or what they made them learn.  I want people to believe that this world is better because I was here and they were here with me.  I want people to say that no matter what happened to me I stood in the power of Christ.

Perhaps that's what this sojourn is about: the legacy we'll leave.  What we'll have done that matters long beyond our time here.  It's true that the night of weeping will be the morn of song.  It's true that the grave can't silence my praises.  It's true that even a few short years on Earth are a long sojourn back Home.  And it's true that when I go, I will fly to Jesus and live.  And when I do, this is what I hope to leave behind:  "Let it be said of me, my source of strength, my source of hope is Christ alone."