Jump Start # 3813
Ecclesiastes 3:6 A time to search and a time to give up as lost; a time to keep and a time to throw away.”
It was something that needed to be done. It came to me one night when I wasn’t sleeping well. So, today, I tackled the job. I have several file cabinets in my office. I’m old school and save a lot of papers. One file drawer contained all the funeral sermons I have conducted. There was a file for each person. A copy of the sermon I preached, along with a funeral card, the obit and other things. There were forty-five years of these files. There is a day coming when my kids would have to go through all those papers. And, having done that for a couple of other older people, I decided it was time, as our passage says, to throw away. There were literally dozens and dozens and dozens of files covering more than four decades of funerals. As I opened and looked in each one, some brought found memories. Good people. People I loved. Some I do not even remember doing the service for.
It took a while going through all of those and I filled a trash bag with those files. Many of the things that I had said are saved on my computer. I don’t know why I had a file for each person and why I saved them. Memories I suppose. It’s not something that I would pull out and use again.
Here are some thoughts that came from that:
First, what is important to one person most likely is not to another. The younger generation keeps everything stored electronically. Old historians like me, just hang on to things, even though we know that we’ll never use them again. It was a moment, an important moment. But, that moment has past and it’s not coming back. Other than nostalgia there wasn’t any needful reason to keep all those files.
Second, so many lives were represented in those files. Some were elders in God’s church. Some were young. Some were very old. Some were very dear to me. Some had died suddenly. Some fought a long, long battle with disease. But, in every folder was names of someone that had walked this planet. God had given them life and breath. They lived, loved and touched the lives of others. Some were godly saints among us. Some were still searching.
So many people have reached out to me to speak a few words at the funeral of their loved one. What an honor that is. I remember several of those funerals. At one, after everyone left, the funeral director had the cemetery staff turn the casket around before burial. He wasn’t facing east I was told. Another, the military didn’t show up. The funeral director and I folded the flag that draped the casket. I was really nervous doing that. There was one funeral when someone stepped forward and wanted to say something to the audience. I didn’t know this was going to happen. What she said was longer than what I said. There was one funeral in the dead of winter, as we walked from the hearse to the cemetery plot, about two inches of snow covered my shoulders. It was really snowing hard that day. So many memories.
All those files represented journeys ended here. They are all on the other side now. Some I had worshipped with. Some were family members. Some were complete strangers to me. We live, influence, and touch the lives of others. Some we will never forget as long as we have breath in our bodies. Some we have already forgotten. And, as I looked at all those file folders with names written on the top, scattered across my office floor, it occurred to me that someday I may have my name on a folder in a preacher’s file cabinet. But what is said on that day won’t matter much. Those that know me, helped me and been dear to my heart, know. Life is more than dates, accomplishments and places traveled. Those who have walked with the Lord beside me know. The Lord knows. That’s what matters.
Third, as I looked at all those files, I wondered how their families were doing. Decades later, did they ever pause and remember and reflect about their loved one? Did anything I said on those sad days comfort those broken and grieving hearts? Did anything I said make one turn to the Lord? Did good come from any of these funeral addresses? I remember so well, working so hard on those words that I would say. I remember praying so hard about those days. I wanted to do my best to help those hurting families. A lot of hours were poured into each one of those. And, now, decades later, it’s time to throw these away.
There is a time to keep and a time to throw away. It’s hard knowing just what to keep and what to throw away. Precious memories—even during sad moments. What a blessing it is to be put in a position by the Lord to help others. What a difference being with the Lord makes during those dark and sad days.
Roger