Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die...

I had a hard time finding it. And I can't tell you how many people wanted to say that it was written for Kenny Chesney in 2008, which is ludicrous. It's a little angering to see something as credible as Wikipedia state such nonsense. I mean the site that let's anyone write down anything that they want and call it fact has lent itself to me on numerous occasions including on multiple reports that I've written for grad school. But my faith has now totally and utterly jumped out the window when it comes to finding facts through the infamous site of tentative knowledge. Where were you on that one fact checker?!?

How could anyone say that "Everybody Wants to Go To Heaven" was written so recently?

It's an old song.

The oldest version I could find is by Loretta Lynn around 1960. I'm guessing that she is the original author, but I can't get it out of my head that it's actually older than that. Maybe it's the daunting tone of the relatable lyrics that makes it sound like it has always been around. Maybe it's the connection I feel to the author when she proclaims the call to live in the tension between Heaven and Earth that makes me sense that this is something that we've been living with since the beginning...to long for paradise with God Almighty, but to continually fear taking that last breath.

I've been thinking about death quite a bit over the last couple of months (probably since my last post...Ephraim is finally starting to sleep, so I am finally starting to sleep, which makes me a little more able to think. The only downside is that I can't blame my lack of sleep for irritability and lack of patience that may occur). I read a book that talked a lot about death. I took part in a funeral here at church. And there have been some other instances that are now alluding me which have turned my attention toward the end of this life here on Earth. It's really made me think about the way that I live my life. Because of that, one person keeps coming to my mind...Grandma (don't tell her this is why I was thinking of her. She may get the wrong idea).

I started to think about the legacy that you leave behind when you die, or lack thereof. I started to wonder what my funeral would look like, what people might say, what music would play, would anyone show up?, etc. Then I thought about my grandma's funeral (really, don't even mention this part to her). I thought that if I was to say one thing about my grandma...if there was one thing that I would always remember her for and tell my kids and grandkids about her, it's that I longed to love people the way that she does.

That I want so badly to be as loving and kind-hearted as she is.

At funerals you always end up trying to find something nice to say about the lifeless mass that is now laying before you even if that rotting collection of carbon was a rotten and miserable example of a person.

At my last church, I ended up attending a lot of funerals. It was an older church and a lot of people died while we were there (not because I was there). I can remember one funeral in particular where the only thing anyone said about the guy was that he loved golf.

"He was always out playing golf."

"You couldn't get him off the course."

"What a great backstroke."

It became blatantly obvious to me that the guy kind of sucked. Not at golf obviously. I think he was probably pretty good at that. But I think he sucked at life. No one had any stories about spending time with him. No one talked about the way the trip they took impacted their life. No one talked about the time that they got to sit down with him and feel so deeply connected with him that their life would never be the same now that he's gone. Just golf...he kind of sucked.

I'm not talking about this kind of situation. My grandma is the sweetest, kindest, sometimes ditziest, most loving woman on the planet. I have had the opportunity to grow up near my grandparents and have spent a lot of time with them, and I have never heard my grandma say one negative word about anyone. Not one. There was a time when one of our extended dirtball family members was being talked about and everyone was chiming in on the terrible things that he had done. Her only input was,

"But he's a good man."

I admire her for that. I wish that I had her view of other people. That I could love others the way that she does (okay maybe you should tell her this part. I'll get to be her favorite for a while if she hears this).

All of this made me think that I need to love the way my grandma does. I need to be as kind as she is. I need to see people with the eyes that she has because she lives out the second greatest commandment almost to a fault. But she does it because she truly lives out the first.

I want that in my life.

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