Applying For Heaven

As I sat in the pew at my aunt's memorial service I kept being distracted by thoughts of my oldest son who is finishing the exhausting task of applying for college. The similarities on the surface were much less interesting than the key difference that results from a life of faith.

Both acts center around a compelling narrative. My son describes his past achievements and current passions in a way that might persuade a college to allow him to share their brand. A group of people (readers) will sit around a table in judgement of his application. The process is nerve wracking and heart wrenching and the future hangs in the balance. What these people decide will have a significant impact on his future.

My aunt's service also involved a narrative shared with people, the many friends and family members who gathered to celebrate her life. In the case of my aunt, who participated actively in her church and displayed a constant faith that has permeated my mom's family for generations, it was a peaceful review of her life that was filled with family, a love of learning, and decades of quiet service to others. No one sat in judgement. Her faith in Jesus meant that she was able to hide behind His glorious robes. Her future was secure. Although her story had no direct impact on anyone's future, her story - like the story of millions of Believers before her - set the stage for her peaceful "passing on" to a new life beyond this one. At the end, she said, "it is time." It is hard to make that pronouncement unless you know where you are going.

My son's struggles are just beginning. Let's face it. Adulting sucks. My aunt's struggles are over. She has received her final reward. And I am writing my own narrative. Still striving, like my son, to achieve. Instead, I should be more focused on the narrative I am creating for my own final presentation. No worries. I've passed the test. But creating a compelling life - that narrative is far from complete.

Did you ever ask yourself, "what makes a great biography?" Not a great resume. That is too much like the college application. What are the sorts of stories that you want people to share at the end of your life?

I want people to sing songs that were meaningful to me. Songs that were written and sung by my friends. Or songs like "Amazing Grace," which Chris and I included in our wedding ceremony. I want stories shared where I helped others and had a meaningful impact on the lives of people who needed help, and found in me a person willing and capable.

Nobody will care what car I drove. They won't care about which house I made money on, or which one was my money pit. My memorial service isn't likely to include a list of stocks I bought, or even businesses I started. From dust to dust, it's not about the stuff.

I hope that my stories about lives I've touched, wisdom I've passed on, and words I've thrown together in ways that touch the hearts of people around me. When it's all said and done, there are only a few things that really matter. These are the compelling stories that are at the heart of your narrative. Did you share the Gospel message and what happened when you did? Because it's not about where you went to school, or where you worked, or how early you retired. It's about eternity. My aunt's memorial service gave us all a glimpse of eternity and I am so very grateful that she slowed me down long enough to remember what's most important. It was the climax of her life's work and she succeeded. "Well done, good and faithful servant."