I visited my brother’s grave today. “Laney” died last December, but this was the first opportunity that I have had to officially say goodbye — even though he is on the other side now. All that remains where he now lies is a grave marker with his name and picture on it. Multitudes of memories flooded my mind regarding days and seasons long past  — times that will never be retrieved. Out of a family of five, he was number four. I was the caboose. I looked up to him. To him I was probably the annoying, tag-along sister.

A part of me grieves because he is no longer here. Another part feels happy for him because he is no longer suffering and riddled with disease. Yet, a third part makes me think harder about the rest of my days. Standing before a grave or attending funerals always does that. The graves of my mother and father lay right beside Laney’s.

We just returned from West Virginia where we celebrated a new life and the joy of meeting our new granddaughter, Lorelei, for the first time. Watching an infant who doesn’t conceive how very fragile she is and standing by a grave of one whose fragile life is now over places me somewhere in the middle.

“One life to live, ’twill soon be past. Only what’s done for Christ will last.” This was one of my mother’s favorite sayings, penned by C.T. Studd who served as a missionary to China, India, and Africa. I’ve been reminded today, both by Laney and Lorelei, not to live a mediocre life — for ’twill soon be past. Click this link for the full poem.