Funerals & Dustbunnies

How are Funerals & Dustbunnies alike?

(Wait for it.... wait for it......)

Ummm let's back up a bit.... Last weekend I attended a memorial service for a lovely lady in my extended (kinda) family. She was a sweet woman: well loved and well spoken of, but what sticks with me from a eulogy was what she didn't seem to be. Her grandson, clearly emotional at her passing and rambling on a bit, kept saying that she didn't go to church. I really do not know why he was stuck on that. Okay... I gather she wasn't a spiritual person but do you suppose she wanted that pointed out? I don't really know. There wasn't a minister there at the service. When they spoke fondly of what she gave them they didn't mention her prayers with them, share scripture that she loved or show us a well worn bible. A good person. Hospitable. Loving of her family. But apparently she didn't go to church. Except for family reunions. He did point that out.

I moved a piece of furniture last night that hadn't been moved in about 4 years. When it was gone, there was a giant dustbunny! GIANT!! Like 2 feet long! Scary!! There was a lot of cat fur. I will admit it. Also there were no less than 14 toy mousies, a cap to a bottle of spray butter, 2 pens, some cookies shaped like alphabet letters (where did those come from?), a clothes pin and several soda bottle tops. To you cat owners you know--- these are all cat toys that had been batted around until they got stuck too far for paws to reach and eventually given up on and forgotten.

(Wait for it..........)

Once upon a time I taught a class called "Ladies in Waiting" to single gals.
Stop.
Laughing.
STOP IT! (I am a GOOD wait-er, just not a good DO-ER.)

We talked about how we would live our lives waiting for Prince Charming to appear. I remember one week we talked about how many dates you would be on before you would find out about a person's faith. Clearly there is a reason I don't get asked out on dates because my answer was "Wouldn't you already know?" (SNICKER SNICKER...."There, there silly little, idealistic girl, immature child... crazy cat lady....... "pat, pat... GUFFAW!!!)

(seriously, can she draw a parallel here-- yes, she can, oh ye of little faith)

I don't have a tattoo of John 3:16 on my forehead. I don't carry my bible everywhere I go. Yes, I do have Keith Green on my ipod-- so what, he is still awesome even thought he has been dead for 30 years!! But I hope that you wouldn't have to wonder about my faith at my funeral or find a GIANT dustbunny under my perfect facade if you were to strip away what is on the surface. (That dustbunny is a metaphor in case you missed that)

When the stuff you can see on the surface is stripped away-- what is left?

I pray that you whom I love know how often I pray for you. I hope that a pastor who really knows me preachers a salvation message at my funeral. I hope at that same funeral that someone laughs until they snort at stories of what a dork I was. I hope I have passed my faith along to my children, and their children and their children. I hope I wear out many bibles and that you could easily find my favorite spots. I hope that no one is surprised to find out anything about me-- that what you saw is what there was. I hope that I communicated that being flawed is normal-- learning from your mistakes is how you grow. I hope I trusted enough to show you who I was and not hide a whole lot of junk under the furniture.
For sure there will be cat hair though-- that is a given.