A Prince or A Pauper

The sleep that my body desperately craves beckons to me. And I know I need it. But my heart is heavy stealing away the peace I need to rest.

Today I sat in the funeral of a good man.

And for some reason my mind kept drifting back 7 years to another funeral of another good man.

Only the contrasts were so vibrant my heart felt bound in my chest.

You see, 7 years ago I sat next to my husband in a room in the funeral home where his father was. The family sat in the front row in mismatched vinyl chairs. A man that never really even knew him was appointed to speak on his behalf. There were no hymns, no favorite Bible verses, no expounding testimony.

Until today I never realized how bleak it truly was.

I sat today in a beautiful sanctuary. I listened with another son that had lost his father, and I held my husband's hand once again.

I heard minister after minister exalt this man's life. I heard songs like "There'll Be No More Goodbyes," and "I Can Only Imagine."

But the hardest part of all was hearing this man himself, speaking in song to his family. "Don't weep for me," he said. "Daddy's made it home."

I held my husband's hand and could feel the depth of his sadness as he wept.

I knew he wept for another man, for another time. For a man that lived for the moment, with seemingly no thought to eternity.

I knew he wept for the peace this family must feel, even in their sorrow.

And I thought, "I have got to make it."

I have a choice. When that great day comes my choice will be ever apparent.

Will I have chosen to be His, or will I have chosen the world as my god. Because when the time is here, no earthly riches will matter. If I don't have him, I don't have anything.

Will I die as an heir to the King of Kings, or will I forfeit my rights to my inheritance?

For me the choice is simple. "For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21)

Lord, please, let me reach someone else.