I wonder what will remain in the wake of my absence ? What will be saved and what will be tossed ? What silly little tokens will have been left behind deemed as worth value or fit for the garbage? I wish not to leave a miserable mess for my loved ones to clean up. Will it be said that I counted the cost?

If there is anything worth treasuring let it be that my life pointed to Jesus. The good. The bad. The ugly. I want it to be known that I loved harder than I fought and in my weakness God was only made stronger. Forgiveness offered and ammends made, relationships restored and healing pursued. I can live knowing I’ll be forgotten so long as my Christ shone all the brighter.

Well, okay, I suppose if I could have a say- I would not mind if I’m recalled with a fond smile when a song on the radio plays. Whilst a poem is read, a hymnal sung. An awkwardly exuberant dance. Pink flamingos and sharks. The scent of a newborns head. The waves crashing in the ocean, a crisp autumnal day. Over a cup of tea or coffee upon a stack of dusty old books. Playing in glamorous make up or sporting my favorite sweats.

I would rather collect souls than things that collect dust or rot. I’d rather arrive in heaven tired and worn from a work well done than carefully preserved. It matters not what I was but who he is.