I don’t do well at funerals. I don’t do well with death. In my heart I know death is a Christian’s greatest joy, to go home to God, but I don’t like to say goodbye, I don’t like to let go. I am selfish and I want those I love to stay with me. So, for that reason I don’t do well at funerals. Today we celebrated the life of my dear friend. He died on Thursday. I said a while back he wasn’t ready to go, I wasn’t ready for him to go, his family wasn’t ready for him to go. Last Wednesday he decided he was ready to go, he said he’d suffered enough and was ready to go home to God. So, on Thursday he did just that. I haven’t been able to blog about it until now. I wanted to, but the words wouldn’t come. This is a man I was closer to than I am my own grandfathers. He was an every day part of my life for 10 years, I love him dearly. My head knows he suffered greatly and was ready to go, my heart is taking longer to catch up.
A poem printed in the funeral program says it so much better than I can, I was shocked at how it represented my feelings. I don’t know who wrote it, no credit was given so if you know who wrote it please let me know, I tried to Google it and it’s used in quite a few memorial sites but so far I can’t find a credit to the author…
God saw he was getting tired
And a cure was not to be
So He put His arms around him
And whispered “Come with Me”
With tearful eyes we watched him
Suffer and saw him fade away
Although we couldn’t bear to lose him
We could not bid him stay
A golden heart stopped beating
Hard working hands laid to rest
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He only takes the best.