My Children Just Planned My Funeral

Yesterday, I walked into the kitchen to discover my funeral preparations. It started off innocent enough. One of my daughters was flipping through our wedding pictures and asked if we had bubbles at our funeral. The other two laughed correcting her mistake reminding her it was a wedding and not a funeral. And then the conversation turned to a planning session of my funeral.

My Funeral Plans

“Mom, what do you want at your funeral?”

“Funerals aren’t about the dead, they’re about the living. I want my funeral to be what you will need in order to say goodbye.”

I sat back and listened as the snacks and activities were planned. It was decided they would be serving hot tamales while everyone sat around and read my favorite books. Following the quiet of reading, they would all say their goodbyes by blowing bubbles. I found it entertaining how they summed up my life quite nicely in three small objects: bubbles, books, and my favorite candy. I know there is so much more to me, and I’m sure they do as well, but those three things will stick with them when I am gone. They are peaceful and happy moments in a life full of ups and downs.

How will we be remembered?

As hard as we strive too, we do not get to pick how we are remembered or even who remembers us.

When I was younger I wanted to be famous. I wanted to be the type of person you would find in history books. The type of person who made the world better.

When I was my daughter’s age I idolized Amy Carmichael. I would read and re-read the story of how she prayed for blue eyes as a child. She was not satisfied with her beautiful brown ones. But God had other plans. Eventually, Carmichael found herself in India, rescuing children from temple prostitution. Her brown eyes helped her blend in. I wanted to be Amy Carmichael, rescuing children, living half-way across the world. I pursued missions as a teen, traveling to Israel, Egypt, Russia, Venezuela, and Mexico determined that my future/calling lay in another country.

I have yet to make it to India. The closest I have come is sharing Darn Good Yarns with you or helping VISIBLE Clothing with their Kickstarter. They are doing wonderful work providing a means of living for women who are in danger of prostitution. They are giving women options to save themselves. It was an honor to work with them and feel that I was fulfilling a childhood dream.

By 9th grade, I was convinced that I would be a full-time missionary. Our church in Florida was filled with retired missionaries who came back with stories, mostly in Africa, of giant snakes and beautiful cultures hungry for the Bible. I couldn’t wait to go! The Summer of ’92 those same missionaries sent me to Israel, Egypt, and Russia with Teen Missions International. It was then that I was convinced this would be my life.

A few mission trips later, seminary, marriage, and children our life took an abrupt turn. Our second child was diagnosed with cancer. It became difficult to work, pay bills, and for John to complete school. Suddenly enlisting in the military became our option and the direction we thought we were headed (Medical Missions) disappeared. I found myself in a new space, struggling to hold on to dreams while being a milso, caregiver, and full-time mom. The beginnings of this blog was to find my own space, to discover what direction I was being called to. Like Amy Carmichael, there was something I wanted but the map of my life, like hers, would prove different. I’m still in the midst of the journey, trying to figure out where I fit.

Be Present

Mostly what I’m learning is to be present, to love those in my path, to acknowledge the history of our past (individually and as a country), and to move forward to make it better. Most of us won’t make it into history books, most of us have no control over how we will be remembered, but we do have today and we can make this moment better.

Our impact on this earth can be one of blessing in the midst of the ugliness. It can be a bowl of hot tamales at a funeral, a place of quiet rest in the midst of grief. We can live intentionally, in such a way that when our children blow bubbles at our funerals they will do it knowing they were fully loved.

How do you think your loved ones will remember you? Share with us in the comments.