'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far...and Grace will lead me home.

Last Wednesday, I attended the graveside funeral of my sister-in-law's grandmother.  I did not know her very well - but she was always very nice to me - and my brother and his daughter seemed to want me there.

It was a bright and sunny day - so I went a little early to walk the grounds and to reflect - I wandered through the fields and found a stone with the following on it - and thought, no matter what you "believe," you can't argue with the point being made:

One Solitary Life

He was born in an obscure village
The child of a peasant woman
He grew up in another obscure village
Where he worked in a carpenter shop
Until he was thirty

He never wrote a book
He never held an office
He never went to college
He never visited a big city
He never traveled more than two hundred miles
From the place where he was born
He did none of the things
Usually associated with greatness
He had no credentials but himself

He was only thirty three

His friends ran away
One of them denied him
He was turned over to his enemies
And went through the mockery of a trial
He was nailed to a cross between two thieves
While dying, his executioners gambled for his clothing
The only property he had on earth

When he was dead
He was laid in a borrowed grave
Through the pity of a friend

Nineteen centuries have come and gone
And today Jesus is the central figure of the human race
And the leader of mankind's progress
All the armies that have ever marched
All the navies that have ever sailed
All the parliaments that have ever sat
All the kings that ever reigned put together
Have not affected the life of mankind on earth
As powerfully as that one solitary life.

 - Dr. James Alan - 1928

During the service, someone stood up and recited a poem - one that struck a cord deep within me - with the "family tree" efforts I have been doing - I've often typed someone's name, their birth date and the date they passed away separated by a dash, "-"

The poem by Linda Ellis, is simply titled, "The Dash Poem" and goes like this:

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end

He noted that first came the date of her birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the 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 is left,
That can still be rearranged.

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 your eulogy is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

Also during the service - a young woman with a beautiful voice sang "Amazing Grace," the favorite song of Naomi, the woman that passed away.

I found the stanza:

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

...repeating in my head as I walked alone, back to my car and on the drive home, all the while thinking about my "dash."

Rest in Peace Naomi - your dash was well-spent - so many spoke highly of you when we all went to say "Good Bye."