The Dash

About this post:  As I passed by the headstone of a dear relative of mine, I almost felt such a sense of sorrow.  This relative was very wealthy and there was nothing of earthly matter that they had need of.  There is nothing great about the headstone and for any stranger passing down the asphalt road at the cemetery, they would never be able to distinguish that this person lived a life of NO wants.  They had everything they wanted! 

No matter how high we climb in life, or how much gold we tuck away, the road eventually bends towards the same resting place. To the cemetery we all must go...not because of poverty, not because of loneliness, but simply because we are human. The stone will mark our beginning and our end, and the ground will cradle both the rich and the poor alike.  

This past weekend, after my country drive, I found myself slowly driving through our small town cemetery.  I wasn't in a hurry...instead, I let my eyes linger over the rows of headstones, each one marking a life once lived.  Names I recognized, names I didn't, but all connected in some way to the fabric of this little town.  Families tied together through marriages, friendships and generations of stories. 

As I looked across the quiet resting place, one thing struck me: every single stone carried two dates. The day someone entered this world, and the day they left it. That was it! Whether a person lived 30 years or 90, whether their life was filled with abundance or simplicity, ALL THAT REMAINS CARVED IN STONE IS A BIRTH DATE, A DASH, AND A DEATH DATE!

That dash so small and simple holds the entire story. Thoughts ran through my mind of how that single dash represents laughter and tears, struggles and victories, love and loss. It's the reminder that what truly matters is not how long the dash is, or how much wealth, fame or status someone carried during it.  

As I passed my parents grave and viewed their headstone, I was reminded of their warmth, their kindness, their love for one another and their love for the Lord. These are the kind of things that ripple beyond their lifetime of exactly what that dash stands for. 

In the end, we are all equal there in that quiet place. Headstones standing side by side, each one whispering the same truth: Our days are numbered, but what we do with the dash between them is what truly defines us.  I saw a HUGE expensive headstone, full of accolades etched on the back of the tall standing black marble.  Standing next to it was a small, older stone, covered in stains as it had weathered over the years.  

What I noticed was that the small headstone had an American Flag etched on it. And in that moment, I realized the size of the stone or the length of the words didn't matter nearly as much as the life represented. One told of earthly achievements, the other quietly spoke of sacrifice and service.....the unseen moments of love, courage, and legacy that can't be captured on a stone.  

As I left the cemetery, I carried a gentle reminder with me.....LIVE well inside the dash!  The dash is nothing new..we've all read about how important life is inside this dash that will someday be placed on our own headstones.  For me, this drive through the cemetery was a devotion, speaking to my heart to spend my days..... writing my dash as a life worth remembering.  

Shug...

"To the cemetery we all must go, 

Through fields of peace where soft winds blow.

Not for the poor, nor wealth's grand call, 

Because time's hand will touch us all.

The stone will whisper of birth and rest, 

Two simple dates, a life expressed.

And in that silence, love will stay,

For hearts remembered never fade away.