There’s something about funerals that turns one introspective.
Not unexpectedly: the reminder of how brief this life really is perhaps should give us pause to consider our paths.
When one says goodbye (for now) to someone who has touched so many of the lives around them, it’s hard not to evaluate the net impact of one’s own life.
It is hard to be the inward and quiet person that I am, and not be aware that the impact I will have will be similarly quiet.
I can see that as a failing, of course. And to the extent I choose to be closed off from others, it is a failing.
But to the extent I am simply being the person I have been made to be – quiet, yes, but also capable by His grace of being friendly, welcoming, warm (I know not what else) – it is not a failing at all. It is only that I am different. We are all different, by design.
I don’t know what impact I’m having. Or if I’m having one at all.
Except that I trust that I’ve been made this way for a reason; that God has a purpose in it.
And that God knows, too, when it’s good to give me a glimpse of what He is doing in me,
And when it’s better that I not see too clearly, lest I think it’s something I could do myself.