The day was busy- kids to school-working out. I even made Holland toast like the kind I make for myself everyday- except on days when I’m fasting of course. Next to coke – that morning piece of toast is the hardest thing that I give up- and this child wants me to make it for her. And I did. And it looked so good!

When I finally got home and had some time to spend with you – you again spoke to me sweetly. I was reading in Genesis and read vs 7 in chapter 2 “Then The Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground. He breathed the breath of life into the man’s nostrils, and the man became a living person. And I thought of the events of the past weekend, Brother Lemmon’s words at Bible Study years ago and my experiences with life and death.

I’ve always said everyone should see a birth and a death. In those moments there is something holy. And as I read this scripture I realized what it was. It is that breath. That God breath that gives life and when it is ready abandons the dust made habitation.

I’ve seen two births. My nieces Lauren and Abigail. I remember holding my own breath as they entered the world. Waiting…Waiting…Waiting. And then it came. That gasp. That scream as breath entered those little lungs and every nerve ending was awakened to a new and strange and overwhelming world. And in that moment something holy was given.

I remember watching as I sat in the room with my mother-in-law, the mother of my first husband. Our relationship had been challenging. Her diagnosis of cancer the seeming thread that gave her heart the freedom to realize she could trust me with it. I knew as that final breath escaped that earthly shell that her very being had left the room. Had left us with the dust that had been given permission to house her. And You had decided it was satisfactory no more.

Philly and I encountered death twice this week. Driving home from our second funeral Philly announced he wanted to be cremated. This was news to me. However, these were only the second and third funerals we had gone to since our marriage, and I think their close proximity had us a little more engaged with the thought of death.

I asked what he wanted his funeral to be like and out came this announcement of cremation.

“I can’t burn you!” I responded quickly.

“Babe, it’s just my shell. Not me.”

“But how will you get all put back together.”

“Babe, it’s my spirit living not my body.” He looks at me wondering how I am the Bible teacher in this marriage.

I shook my head rapidly. “Sorry babe. I can’t do it.”

“But you can put me in a pretty urn.”

“No. I can’t do cremation. Anyway I told you funerals are more about the living than the dead.”

(No judgement whatsoever on those of you who desire to be cremated or have cremated someone you love. This isn’t a religious issue for me, strictly one of preference.)

“Well, don’t get some expensive coffin.”

“I won’t. Plain Jane. That’s what you’ll get. I won’t even open it.”

“Good. I don’t want it open.”

However, he did share a few hysterical things about what he would like at his funeral that will have to stay just between he and I. Then I went on to share what I wanted at my funeral.

“I thought the funeral was more about the family than the person who has died.” He responded to my detailed funeral plans.

“Touche. But there are some specific things that I want and I want to make sure you know what they are.”

“Well, you need to write them down.”

“I will. But just so you know I plan on us going in the rapture together anyway so all of this is a mute point.”

Our conversation was funny. But I am ever reminded of how you are the “breath of life.”

Nothing in this life, not my body, not my dreams, not my soul, not my abilities, not my desires, none of it has anything of value, or meaning, or resource, separate of you breathing life into it. I can forget this on some days in my striving, my tantrums, my failures. I can forget that I am shell. You are substance. I am vapor. You are eternal. I am unholy. You are so holy. And yet, inspite of all I am not, you chose to breathe the breath of life into me. And for that…oh for that, I am so grateful.