Taking it to heart

Recently, a well-loved, godly man from my church died suddenly. His memorial service, at his wife's request, was a celebration of his life.

I didn't know him that well; my strongest impression of him was made on a retreat for pre-teens. I asked which leader could hip-hop dance, and he could...well, kinda....and during the actual skit, he had to do that frenetic dance for about 7 minutes. He was sweating, and he had to be irritated, but he was smiling and so funny about it.

As the entire community grieved (he was a popular orthodontist), we all watched the impact that one well-lived life can make. I watched the slideshow, noticing the many, many pictures of him doing things with his kids, and wondered if he has given more to them in 12 years than some fathers give in a lifetime.

One of the best words that was said about him:
He finished his race at full-sprint.
What an image. And what a different perspective...

I tend to personalize, and that usually bothers me/embarrasses me. (I always think: everything is not about ME!)
But one part of the sermon that day actually encouraged us to personalize:

This verse from Ecclesiastes, springing from the page into a living and active word:

"Better to go to the house of mourning
Than to the house of feasting.
For this is the end of all men
And the living take it to heart."

It may be too soon for some to take it to heart; I know that some are still profoundly grieving. But I also think that to be changed by this is honoring to his life, and his family.

Me taking it to heart:

I don't want to take time with my kids for granted.
I want to take the time to tell people how much I love them, what I see in them that God is doing, how much they mean to me. I don't want fear of cheesiness or emotion to block this anymore.
I want to run my race well.

Right now, I'm just continuing to pray for this family, and for those around who are supporting them.

Luctor et emergo

Hey, welcome to my page.
It means "I struggle and emerge".

A long time ago, this woman told us all to be open about our need, real about our struggles. "Struggle is a sign of life-" she shrugged when she said it, as if reminding us of something we should already know...you know, the whole don't-crack-open-a-cocoon-to-help-the-fragile-emerging-butterfly-because-the-very-work-it-takes-to-open-the-cocoon-is-what-makes-him-strong-enough-to-fly idea.