I have been thinking back to this essay I wrote a few months ago for a college writing class.
I pull into the straight, gravel
driveway and drive toward my destination. A small brick church welcomes me. As
I pull in, I observe that the cemetery is oddly beautiful with lovely trees and
flowers scattered throughout. The nature-filled air is sweet smelling and
rejuvenating. The cemetery is about twenty minutes away from the noisy city
streets which allows it to be a secluded, quiet, and peaceful place.
Ironically, I always feel very calm
and at peace when I am at the cemetery. Many people avoid cemeteries like the
plague because of the sadness of loss that they feel there. Cemeteries often
have a bad connotation and are thought of as spooky places. This is not the
case for me. I go to the cemetery and I feel renewed and refreshed, not scared
or sad. The cemetery is a very meaningful
place for me. It is where I have been forced to work through one of the biggest
trials in my life: the death of my dad. Each time I go there, I must accept his
death. There is no denying it as I look at the place where he is buried. Though
this is place where I experience grief, it is also a place where I find joy. I
remember the dad that I went fishing with, told jokes with, and sang songs
with. I am blessed to have spent so much time with him. Today, I can have hope because I know where my dad is; he
is in heaven. I am so happy that he is spending his eternity with the Lord and
one day soon, I will get to be there, too.
Each time I go to the cemetery, it is
a time for me to reflect, mourn, rejoice, and ponder. I reflect on my father’s
life and the legacy of his faith in God that he left behind for me and my
family. I mourn the loss of such a wonderful dad who loved his family and the
people around him with such a genuine love. I rejoice because I know that my
dad is in heaven enjoying eternity with his God and Savior. I ponder my own
life and what my father’s death has taught me. I think about my life and
remember that it is not mine, it belongs to the Lord.While I am there looking at the plot of land that holds my father’s body, I am reminded how short life is and how important it is to live each day of my God-given life with purpose. James 4:14 tells me that my life is only a mist; here for one second and gone the next. I have only a short time here on this earth. This truth becomes all the more real when I visit my father’s gravesite. I do not visit my dad often, but when I do, I experience a new gratefulness for the life I have here on earth. I am thankful for life, I am amazed by the Creator, and I am reminded of my purpose here on earth.
I take a deep breath and breathe in the crisp, cool air. The wind gently brushes against my cheeks. I take one last look at the beauty of the cemetery and I think, “O death, where is your sting?” Christ’s love and sacrifice has given victory over death. I leave the cemetery and I am not filled with grief; instead, I am overflowing with joy and gratefulness to the Creator.
Father, I am so thankful for this piece of my testimony. I am thankful for how you have taught me and grown me.
With love,
Your Secret Admirer
