The Dash

The beginning of the New Year has brought with it both joy and heartache.  On January 10th I celebrated my birthday, but in the early hours of the morning on the 11th, we received word that my cousin had passed away of a heart-attack.  This was my cousin at who’s house my sister had spent many summer days playing with his children.  This was my cousin who, when I wrote a poem and sent it to all of my cousins, was the only one who wrote back, and that too with a poem of his own. 

He had played cards with his wife until late night on the 10th and then gone to sleep peacefully.  But shortly thereafter he suffered from a fatal heart-attack.

The days to follow were like a whirlwind.  Everyone was in shock as they prepared for the funeral.  I went over to my cousin’s house several times to offer condolences.  It felt weird.  I hate death.  It doesn’t quite seem real.  And I don’t quite know what to say to grieving family members, because nothing I can say can fix things.  Nothing I can say can bring him back.

But, what I found even more uncomfortable was the conversations I heard others having.  Here my cousin lay in an open casket, and I was over-hearing conversations on business, television programs, and up-coming festivities.  As i was hearing all of this and observing the people who were gathered, I was reminded of a poem I once read written by Linda Ellis:

I read of a reverend who stood to speak at the funeral of his friend.  He referred to the dates on her tombstone…from beginning to end.

He said that the first was the date of her birth, and spoke of the last date with tears in his eyes, but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all teh time that she spent alive on earth, and now only those who loved her know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own: the cars, the house, the cash.  What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard, are there things you’d like to change?  For you never know how much time you have left, you could be at “dash mid-range.”

If we could just slow down enough to consider what’s true and real, and always try to understand the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger, and show appreciation more and love the people in our lives like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect, and more often wear a smile, remembering that this special dash might only last a little while.

So when you eulogy is being read with your life’s action to rehash, would you be please with what they say about how you spent your dash?

This is so true.  It is the dash that counts.  It is the days in between the first and the last that define a person’s life.  And I have been thinking lately that I want those days to count.  I want my dash to be something special.  I want it to be one that leaves a mark in this world.

And at the end of the dash, I want to be able to say:

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

2 Timothy 4:7. 

And I want the Lord to say of me:

Well done, good and faithful servant.

See Matthew 25:21.

I encourage you, this week to take time and think about your dash.  What does it represent so far?  And what would you like it to mean?