Listen To The Dead

If The Dead Could Speak. Maybe They Do?

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I’m a huge fan of cemeteries.

For some of you that may sound creepy and I get that.

I grew up “decorating the graves” every Memorial Day weekend.

My parents taught us a respect for the dead.

The dead are our past and can guide us into the future, if we let them.

Kathy and I were in Bozeman and wanted to walk.

We went to a park that turned into a cemetery.

80 some acres of bodies from the past buried with clues to our future if we take the time to look.

Each tombstone represents a life, the life’s story and a reminder that in the end none of us leaves here without death.

Sad stories of babies who died a hundred years ago.

A couple who both died on the same day, probably an accident, so sad.

I wonder what the folks just six feet underground would say about America today?

I wonder if God tells them things once they are passed that helps them understand the folly of their worries, trials and tribulations.

My honest belief is that the dead stay sleeping  until the return of Christ when all are awakened for the judgement.

What makes a cemetery to warm place for me is these folks lived lives and are done.

They made mistakes, God knows, and they made choices but the verdict is waiting for the final judgement.

How they lived, how they treated people, how they loved, far outweighs what they did for a living, how much money they had or what their checkbook said about them.

If I could have a super power it would be to look at a headstone and instantly be able to interview the person six feet under.

I would ask them what they learned, what was useless, what they’d do over if they could and what was all a bunch of bullshit.

But that isn’t how life works.

Our only super power is to love those around us as best we can and love God and treat others as we wish to be treated.

In the end I think that’s probably what matters to God the most.

And in the end, it is His opinion and only His that truly matters.