The Best is Yet to Come!

Funerals.

Sigh…

I just came home from my uncle’s funeral. He met Jesus face-to-face the end of June but we didn’t have his service until July 29th for lots of reasons.

Then I opened my computer after a long day of travel and unloading a car full of memories to the news a precious friend-in-loss and indefatigable encourager of grievers had laid down for a nap and woke in the arms of her Shepherd King.

Joy Hart Young was famous for saying, “The BEST is yet to come!” and I believe she is experiencing it at this very moment. She’s in the Presence of the One who saved her, sustained her and loves her. She is reunited with her son, Matt, and tears will never again be her food.

No more night. No more death. No more sadness or sickness or disappointment or sin.

Hallelujah! Amen.

My uncle was old and full of years. Joy wasn’t exactly a spring chicken (she’d approve of my saying that) but she wasn’t the age one might expect to leave this world. Her son and my son were so, so young when their earthly lives ended and their heavenly ones began.

Death comes to us all. No one gets out alive.

Death is a line in the sand that cannot be crossed. What hasn’t been said or done can never be said or done. That’s one of the reasons it’s so very hard.

My uncle made some choices that were burdensome for his family to live with after he left. They will continue to mold his legacy in the hearts and minds of those who loved him.

Joy chose to take the pain of child loss and allow it to shape her into a vessel of hope, grace and encouragement for other parents suffering the same devastating sorrow.

So I’m reminded again that our time here is short. How short (or long) only the Lord knows.

What I do in that time matters.

I won’t get a second chance to live my life. I can’t recoup lost moments or lost years.

There are some practical things I can do like create an end-of-life file or notebook to make it easier on those left behind.

But there are more important things I NEED to do if I’m going to leave a legacy of love.

I have to keep short accounts, make amends, ask for and grant forgiveness.

I need to hug necks, speak aloud the beauty I see in others, shake off shame and emotional baggage.

One day (please Lord let it be!) I’ll lie down and not wake up.

I hope the only sorrow I leave behind is the sorrow of missing my presence, not the sorrow of unsaid words or unhealed wounds.

I’m human.

I’ll miss someone or someplace I need to address.

But (Hallelujah! Amen.) in Heaven it will all be made whole.

The best is yet to come!

Joy Hart Young