THE WHITE FUNERAL

Last Christmas Jerry and I were given bibles which have a blank page after every page of scripture, purposefully to write notes about the written word opposite.  When a year or so is over, it is hoped that we would return those bibles to Isaac and Alaya, our grandchildren.  Our son and his beautiful wife honor us with this gift and we hope our words and thoughts, dutifully written, will be helpful to those two young Christians.

This morning I was trying to explain to Alaya (I'm writing in her bible, Jerry in Isaac's) what a "white funeral" was, something I was also journaling. So, I basically told her it was a funeral to "bury" self, after going through the act of killing self within me.

I also told her that it was a heck of a hard job!  I've killed snakes which were pests under our shed.  I've killed mosquitoes and flies, the nasties! I've "killed" relationships that weren't good for me.  I've killed time and various good things I later grieved.  But, "self" resists my fatal blows over and over.
But, I am reminded each time I see "self" crop up its ugly head, Wait just a minute here!  I had a white funeral, and you're supposed to be dead, so what are you doing coming alive again!

Being self absorbed is quite awful, to be simply said.  Even when I'm trying to be other-absorbed, I find myself saying, "Good job, Jo."  Such is the life of a human being.  Or am I the only one who has this problem?

I try to remember to be Christ-absorbed, but much of what I do is for Christ and that brings the old ball right back into the hands of "self"!  I, that is my "self", is suppposed to be dead!  And it is Christ who lives in my body, not me!  Not me.  Not me.  Not me.  No sir, not me.

Oh, Lord, forgive me.  I seem to be stuck with me.  Well, I did have a white funeral.  Nobody was there but me. I'm trying to stay dead, but until I actually am dead, I imagine that self will pop up from the grave every once and awhile.  Such is life as a human.

Lord Jesus, have pity on your servant, your body which used to be mine.  There may be some who laugh at my predicament, but only you know the real grief I feel when my "self" shows so often to the world around me and takes the place I so seriously and lovingly offer to you.

Once again, take my body and my mind and my spirit as your own.

Lovingly, Jo