Death at a Funeral

  I went to a funeral today, the person giving the message talked about death. He said one thing that caught my attention. That we never want to talk about death because it's depressing. Whenever I attend a funeral I always find myself thinking about how we candy coat a funeral service with all the good things, but never really talk about the death. It made me think about talking/writing about it.
  I'm not shy about talking about death, I actually think it would help make the whole experience better for those who remain if we speak about it open and honestly. I can understand not wanting to talk about it because it's depressing, but if we are open from the beginning and celebrate it for what we, as Christians, should see it as (moving on to be with God) then it would/could be viewed in a totally different context. Yes, it is sad and hard, but we talk so much about going to be with the father that we should celebrate it...but not everyone is going to end up at peace, and I guess that may be the real reason we don't want to talk about death!
 After the service we (my family and I) went to eat, I asked my dad what he wanted for his services and he refused to talk about it saying, "Oh we don't talk about that stuff!" Well, no because we want to sugar coat everything. Why would we talk about something you may or may not want to think about?Later in the day I asked my mom the same thing, she responded with, "I never thought about it." Funny, because both of her children have thought about their funeral services...what we want and don't want.
   As selfish as this might sound, your wedding and your funeral are really the only two days in your life that are all about you, and for me (since I'll probably never marry) my funeral will be my only chance to plan out a big event for myself. But I'm not going to spend this post talking about my perfect funeral, instead I'm going to talk about death.
   Since I was young I've always had the feeling I would pass away in an accident when I was in my early 30s and if you're reading this in 2015 and I'm no longer alive, then I was right. It's not a big deal because I've had this feeling since I was 5 or 6 years old. I used to be scared, but now I understand that if God is taking me, He's taking me and there no point in being scared.
   Death is hard, death isn't always what we'd expect, but for all of us it's coming. Sorry! This life isn't about chasing death, it's about living, about living your life for something special. For some, it's for God....for others it's to change the world and still for others its for themselves...but we all have something to live for. The biggest most selfish act (to me) is suicide, because you're ONLY thinking about you and your pain, you're not thinking about how you effect the world around you and how you are devastating the many to calm yourself. If you have children and do it, it's even more selfish, because you leave them with the thought that they weren't enough...when you never ever thought about them in the first place.

   So here it is...death, it's moving on, its the next step in the journey of your existence and it happens...there's no putting if off, it's coming and there's really nothing to be done about it. So what would I say or do in the face of death...I don't know, but I do know this...the last person close to me to die was my Grandfather and when he got sick I knew he would die, so instead of being in denial or running away I did all I could to be around him, to see him, talk to him and tell him I loved him. I'm sure he knew that he was going, all those old friends he hadn't seen in years started to come around and visit. We all have our way of facing death, but I didn't want to have regrets, I wanted to be there and see him, know that we loved each other. I didn't want to look back and think I didn't do enough to make his last days good.
   After all was said and done, my grandfather passed, but the peace I thought would come didn't. I worried because I didn't really know if he was at peace. I mean the minister preached that he was with God but I didn't know in my heart, how could I? So the worry and fear persisted. Then I had this dream that shook me (like only God can) and rested my worried mind.

   I walked into a restaurant (it was the Brown Derby although I've never been there I knew that's where I was).  As I walked through the place to my seat, I noticed this group of men in a bar booth, men I had never seen expect for one familiar face, my Grandfather's. I went to my seat with my friends took off my coat, put my purse down, then promptly excused myself to go say hi. The group of men was leaving as I got back to the bar but I stopped him and with a big smile said Hi, and tried to give him a hug. He smiled back like any polite person would, returned my hi but didn't let me hug him. It then dawned on me that he didn't know who I was. He didn't know and even after trying to explain it to him, he just stood there with that peaceful smile on his face. Looking at me like a loving Grandfather would, but not seeing me as his grandchild. As I struggled to explain myself further the tears began to fill my eyes and run over...one of the men (god they were big and all in trench coats and hats, like Humphrey in Casablanca) took his arm and started to lead him out. I stood there crying, not knowing what to do. Then another man came to me, smiled and said "You can let go now, we got him, he's okay and at peace. God's taking care of him". In my mind, these trench coat wearing buddies (bodyguards) were angels and in that moment I became completely free and peaceful, I also instantly woke up to tear soaked cheeks and pillows.

  After that, I stopped worrying about death, I stopped worrying about what's going to happen because I realize that God is taking care of it. Does that mean, I feel like I'm invincible, nope...but that night I do feel like God spoke to me and clearly told me that death isn't the end.
  Now some may say I'm crazy...that's fine, if you haven't figured that out by now then I'll call you slow. But for me, death isn't bad, it isn't scary or something to fear...it's just the next step, the next move to God. If we are living our lives to further God's kingdom, to spend our afterlife with him then why wouldn't we celebrate...I mean truly celebrate death coming? Why would we try our best to stay here on this imperfect rock when we can bask in the glow of God's light....now I'm not saying we need to give up on this place and call it quits, I'm just saying we have to see death for what it is...inevitable, unmovable and just around the coroner.