The Shepherd's Heart: The Dash

Sometimes there are days that you think you are just going to dread. I had one of these days earlier this week, but instead of being the dreadful kind of day I expected, it was a day that ended with a pleasant surprise.

As many family friends know, my dad's brother died last Friday, Oct. 16. I do not want to focus on his death, but I want to share how the experience left its mark on me in hopes that whoever reads this might catch a glimpse of what I felt.

At the funeral my dad read some scriptures my aunt had picked out, and he also read the eulogy she had written herself. This task would not have been a simple one for me, but my dad read the eulogy in a special way, as if he were reading a story. In her eulogy, my aunt shared about my uncle, the life they had together, their children and grandchildren and about the joy my uncle had found in being with his family. She shared that he loved being a father and a grandfather and that he enjoyed working with family members every day.

My father ended his part of the eulogy by sharing that no matter what we die of, and we all will eventually die, that the one thing we all have in common is the little mark that is placed between our date of birth and the date we die. This one little mark that tells so much is the dash.

For my uncle, the dash told of the 53 years he was a loving son and brother; it told of the 34 years he was a devoted husband and of the 31 years he spent as a loving and proud father; it told of the many years he spent as a loving uncle; and it told of his later years when he became a delighted "Papa."

As I rode in the car on the way to the cemetery, I could not stop thinking about how lucky I am to have a big family that pulls together when someone is in need. To my surprise, I realized how easy it is to take simple things for granted; things like hugs and time spent with the people you love. At times I forget how lucky I am to be able to count on one hand the family members I have lost, and how lucky I am to be surrounded by people I love and who love me.

I did not have the pleasure of knowing my uncle until the age of eight when my family moved back to Missouri, where both my parents were raised. However, I did enjoy spending time with him and his family as a teenager and having the opportunity to get closer to him in my early adult years. I also know that he was a wonderful man who not only enjoyed being with family, but who thrived in the time he spent with the people he loved. And this one thing I am sure of; he accomplished many things during his "dash."

My one hope for myself is that when people eventually see my dash they will see what I have accomplished and remember who I loved and that I tried to dedicate my time on this earth to sharing God's love with people.

The day of my uncle's funeral started out gloomy and rainy, but by the time the service was over the sun had broken through the clouds, and that reminded me that we are never guaranteed the next day, and that we should live each day as if it were our last.