A Story Worth Telling

 "We're all stories in the end, just make it a good one eh?" - 11th Doctor - Doctor Who

Over the past 20+ years of being a pastor, I have often said I prefer funerals to weddings.  It's not because I have some morbid fascination with death.  From an officiant's standpoint, I find funerals give me more of an opportunity to be relatable and available to the needs of the family than weddings. I enjoy being their for couples as they exchange their vows but funerals allow me to open myself more, if that makes sense.

One of my favourite things about funerals, more so than weddings, are the stories people will share.  I have been asked to officiate funerals of people I never knew, or hardly knew, where I have left feeling liked I missed out on knowing a truly great person just by the stories shared by loved ones.  That's not to say heartfelt stories are not found a weddings, but those are often found during the reception during an already joyous time.  

I have been a part of two funerals, or celebrations of life, over the last few days.  Each person was deeply missed by the friends and family.  I never really knew either person but the stories that were shared at both events gave me, a complete outsider in both cases, a better perspective of who they were.  While they had passed from this mortal coil, the stories of their lives will live on in the hearts and memories of all gathered (myself included).

I have made it a goal, as a parent, to share with my children my story, just like Mom and Dad did for Pam and I.  I must be doing my job right because there have been times around the dinner table (we still eat as a family) where Caleb or Meagan have asked for a story about my childhood.  

Over the last several months, as I have researched more of my family background, I have found different things out about my ancestors that I have never known before.  For example, I have a Sheriff of Nottingham as a multiple times great grandfather.  I also have a traitor in my lineage.  You never know where you truly come from but it sure is fun finding out.

At the end of life, our stories will be encapsulated by the little dash on our tombstone that separates the days of our births and passings.  When my time comes, I hope the people that gather will share the stories of my life, be it how I convinced two cousins blueberries growing under powerlines were poisonous, or how Melissa and I held hands just a little too long after a handshake many years ago.  

I hope my life has been a story that has made an difference in people's lives.  I think we should all feel that way.

Let's live our lives in a way that says our story is worth telling!