Tuesday, January 29, 2008


I woke up this morning to find myself dead; my life over without warning or notice. To say I wasn’t ready to die would have been an understatement of monumental proportions. My spirit stood guard over my already decaying flesh, shocked by recent events that would soon be discovered by my loved ones. I had laid down in my nice warm bed the night before unlike any other night, wiggled, tossed and turned until I found the spot that would satisfy my aching body’s need for rest and I fell asleep, assuming that I’d wake up the following morning and my mundane life would continue on as usual. I was wrong and my spirit became nervous as the state of my being began to set in and I knew I’d have some questions to answer. How could I possibly explain the fact that I hadn’t done anything meaningful with my life? Sure, I’d graduated from an elite, Ivy League college, snagged a great job and made tons of money, but what did it mean in the end. I had been a member of Old Mount Zion Community Church, the oldest and largest and most prominent church in the city. Anybody who was anybody was a member there. I sat on the Trustee Board, ran the Sunday school, sang in the choir and gave the most money to the Pastor’s Support Fund and yet, I couldn’t remember the names of half of the members of my church. Their faces seemed a blur and now as my body lay cold and stiff, I wondered if my face would be a blur as the Pastor announced my untimely death during worship services on Sunday. It didn’t matter, I suppose, I was so misunderstood there anyway. Everybody was jealous and talked behind my back because they hadn’t been as “blessed” as me. I knew my $1500 Armani’s and $2500 Charles Louboutins made the common church member twinge with envy. Still, I couldn’t help but think that I had somehow missed the point of life; unfortunately, I’d picked a fine time to get serious about living as the blood began to gel in my veins. My name had sat in bold ink on the church rolls for 40 years, collecting dust and I had nothing to report when God would soon call for my accounting. Surely, he’d give me some sort of reprieve, after all, I’d had no time to plan, I was still young, what was the latest news, 50 is the new 30? I had honed my skills of relaying the latest news about anybody and everybody’s secret lives. You wanted the update, come to me, for the price of your time and attention, I’d give you the latest and the greatest dirt dished on china and Waterford crystal. I’d gotten so caught up in storing up worldly possessions that the walls of my spiritual storehouse were weak, cold and empty; reeking with the smell of my inflated ego and void of the power that only faith and a serious prayer life could provide. So, the big, bad wolf of death had come, unannounced and blew my house down. What would be said about me on that day when my body laid stretch out in front of the great wooden altar at Old Mt. Zion? Would my family be inconsolable as they filed past my velvet-lined coffin or would they be shamefully relieved that I had finally taken my final bow? I couldn’t remember ever helping the needy or doing any community service for that matter. Hmm…had I spoken a kind word or thought of anyone else but myself? If I couldn’t remember how did I expect anyone else to?

My life was my eulogy and it didn’t look good at all. If only I’d taken more time to write my eulogy with a life that left an imprint on others. Each action was like a stroke of a pen and now I couldn’t erase the time that was wasted focused on me and not God. I was the only one that would be sorry about my departure because I hadn’t done anything for Him. Here lies me, dead, no more time, no tomorrow to start over. If I had but one more day, but, now someone would have to struggle to find a kind word to say about me. My Armani’s and fancy shoes wouldn’t really make much of a life statement now or would it? Here lies a person, so loved by God but never thanked Him for his love and so my eulogy like my life would be short and bittersweet. Listen to the message shouted loudly from my cold silent lips as if your life depended on it. Today is all we know for sure and every breath is our second chance to live for God and to serve mankind. If you were to die today what would your eulogy read?

Be Blessed…

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