About the time this post goes live, I will be at a funeral. A friend’s dad died this week from cancer that he’d only learned about a few months ago, and the family asked Julia and I to help lead worship for it. We are honored to do that for them.
Funerals aren’t anyone’s favorite event because no one enjoys saying goodbye to loved ones. But funerals provide the perfect opportunity to realize the brevity of life and the end that we all must meet. It’s the perfect opportunity to ask ourselves if what we did yesterday and what we plan to do today is really going to matter, and if the answer is no, to readjust and do stuff that does matter.
Earlier this year, I wrote a post for Blueprint for Life called called The Ocean of Eternity. In light of my friend’s father’s funeral today, I thought it would be a good opportunity to share some of it here, then send you over to Blueprint for Life to read the rest if you like.
If you have any comments, please leave them here, as I’m unable to respond to comments left there.
The Ocean of Eternity
The summer before my junior year of college, my brother and I took part in a summer beach project in Daytona Beach, Florida with a campus student ministry from our university. We were extremely excited about it for many reasons, but one of them was because–if you can believe it–neither of us had ever seen the ocean before.
We visited my aunt and uncle on the Mississippi coast once when I was in middle school. They only lived a few blocks from the Gulf of Mexico, but their town was so close to the mouth of the Mississippi River, I remember thinking then that the Gulf water there looked a lot like the muddy brown river that ran behind our house back home. We had only seen a real ocean in pictures and on television. So we were both very excited about the idea of spending the summer on the beach.
As we drove to Daytona Beach from Georgia, the further south we drove, the more our anticipation grew. Gradually, we watched the roadside soil change from the red clay of north Georgia to the sandy soil of south Georgia. As we got closer to Savannah, spanish moss became a more common sight. Eventually, we noticed a few seagulls. Once we crossed into Florida, spotting a palm tree became commonplace. With each sign that we were nearing the coast, our excitement grew.