Ok, so you probably saw the title of this post and thought that it was going to be extremely morbid or sad. And I suppose it is, but that is not my intention. If you don't want to read it because this post is about fear, death, dying, and funerals, than it's ok by me. I'll never even know!
I have to give you the background to this post, so that you know that it didn't just come out of nowhere. There is a reason that I would write about death! It's not a normal topic for me! As many of you know, I am terribly afraid of flying on a plane. I'm not even just afraid of flying, but I'm afraid of planes in general. If I am on the ground and a plane is flying above me, I have a tendency to keep a close eye on it, just to make sure that it stays up there, and doesn't aim towards me. It's pretty crazy! Like, literally, only a crazy person behaves that way!
In less than 48 hours, I will be boarding a plane to take me far away, and even though statistics show that planes are the safest way to travel, I am still very afraid. You can spout all the statistics out at me that you want. It hasn't made a difference yet.
Although I know that I am going to be safe, it still makes me think about what would happen if I wasn't safe on that plane. What if the plane crashed? It's not a completely irrational fear. People have died on planes before. In fact, three people recently died in a plane crash in San Francisco. It's not an unheard of event. What if I were to die?
Well, logistically, there would be a funeral. I love funerals. I have attended many, specifically for people who I haven't been close to or known at all. A lot of cool things happen when you attend a funeral for a person you've never met. It's a very different experience than attending a funeral for someone who you are close to and love dearly. In that situation, you're too sad to see the beauty of what's happening around you. It's all about the person who died, of course, but it's also a little bit about you. You are mourning your loss. That is what you should be doing. That is a good thing. After all, funerals are for the living, not the dead. It's got to be about you.
But when you attend a funeral for someone you don't know, you get to hear clearly the amazing stories about that person's life: how they lived, but more importantly, how they loved. You only share the good memories of the person who died. I have yet to be at a funeral where the eulogist got up and said, "There really isn't anything good to say about this person." There is always something. It's nice, actually. So often we sit around and gossip about all of the bad stuff that the people in our lives do. It's so natural to share the bad that it seems the only times we ever hear the good is after the person has died. It's refreshing. It's comforting. But mostly, it's inspiring. I always leave funerals thinking, "I need to make some changes in my life. What would people have to say about me at my funeral? I sure hope that it would be something as good as what they said about Joe Shmo today!"
That thought led to another, and that to another, and that to another. Although I know deep down that I am probably not going to die on my pilgrimage to Rio de Janiero, Brazil, it is still more dangerous than sitting in my home here in Colorado. It was when I was thinking about my own funeral (which would include the litany of the Saints, and the Carrie Underwood version of the song "How Great Thou Art," emphasizing the verse that says, "When Christ shall come, with shouts of acclamation, / And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart, / Then I shall bow, in humble adoration, / And then proclaim, 'My God, how great Thou art!'") that I realized that I would want to share something with the people attending my funeral. I would want to leave them with a message. There are things that I have to say, and I would hope that the priest who was celebrating my funeral would read the letter that follows, knowing that it meant a lot to me for the people to know. And even though I am not dead yet, there is never a wrong time to tell someone that you love them. So, I figured I would share it now, when I am alive and well, so that everyone can know that I love them. Here it is, my funeral letter:
Dear Friends, Family, Loved Ones and Strangers attending my funeral,
In thinking about my funeral, it was really tempting to give into despair and let myself believe that nobody would want to attend, or that nobody would have anything good to say about me. Then I let myself imagine my funeral differently, for only a few seconds, and I realized that my initial fear couldn't possibly be true.
I realized that there would be people here, who would want to say goodbye. And those people would be friends, family, and co-workers from the past and the present. There would probably be teens from my youth ministry and their parents. I can guess that there would be old friends, from high school and college, who I haven't seen or spoken to in years. There may even be people here who I have never met or don't know well, who for whatever reason, felt a connection to me in someone during my life, or who is here to comfort someone who I did know and love. Who knows? Maybe even an "enemy" or two is present today, wishing to make amends for whatever caused our relationship to end.
When I think about that list of people, I realize that my life had tremendous meaning. I realize that it was wrong of me to despair and believe that nobody would be present here today, that I took you for granted by doing that, and that I am sorry for having done so. You are here, and for that I am thankful.
I am sorry for whatever I have done to you, whether I have taken you for granted, acted out of selfishness or impatience, or hurt you in any other specific way. You, a child of God, deserve better than that. And yet, you have loved me anyway.
The fact of the matter is that you are here today; I know that there must be at least a handful of people in attendance. And I just want to thank you for being here. I want to thank you for taking time out of your schedule to pray for me, but more importantly, for those whom I love.
I know that I am loved. I only hope that I am now able to love you as I was unable to during my life: the way you deserve. Thank you for your prayers. If you want to honor me, please pray for and love those who I love, and know that I am praying for you.
With love and prayers, now and always,
Krissy Jensen
No comments:
Post a Comment