A Time for Everything

I went to a funeral on Thursday. One of the Scriptures that was read was from Ecclesiastes 3. Maybe because it was such an emotional day for me already (Katie heading off to school), I cried when the words were read:

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace."

What an amazing piece of poetry. Seriously. Those words are absolutely beautiful. They remind me that no matter what timing I have for my life or how much I think I am in control, God's timing is perfect. He knows when the time is right for weeping and for laughing. And sometimes it's one in the same.

Funerals aren't my favorite way of spending time. I think I've been to too many, or helped plan one too many. But I kind of like them - in a morbid way. Is that weird? I like looking at a person's life through the lens of goodbye. Funerals are a way of reminding me what is truly important in life. It isn't the car you drive or the house you live in our the junk you fill that house with. It's the time. Time. That reminds me of the Garth Brooks song Pushing Up Daisies that says, "There's two dates in time that they'll carve on your stone, and everyone knows what they mean. What's more important is the time that is known in that little dash there in between."

I've already (mostly) planned my funeral. I have it saved in a document on my computer. I've already asked my friend Kelley to sing a certain song at my funeral. (To which she's agreed until we turn 50. After that, she says all bets are off because she doesn't want to commit to anything in case she's past her prime.) I've also asked certain friends to speak at my funeral. I told them I was asking them for a five-year commitment. Every five years, I'll re-commit them in case things have changed. I've also told my brother-in-law that I want him to put together a video to show. Do you think this is overly anal-retentive? (No, I wasn't asking you, Mary. I already know your answer. Bah humbug!)