Custom Search

Monday, July 11, 2011

Meant to Love . . . My Eulogy

I want to document here the eulogy that I gave at Matt's funeral. The end is a poem I wrote for Matt in March of 2007, and it was titled 'Meant to Love'.

Ecclesiastes 3

A Time for Everything

1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:

2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

9 What do workers gain from their toil? 10 I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. 11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. 12 I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. 13 That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. 14 I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him.

15 Whatever is has already been,
and what will be has been before;
and God will call the past to account.

To everything there is a time? I have begged my Savior for an answer to the question. . .a time to lose the one you love? I imagine Solomon would have said yes, even that too. For those of you close to me, you know that I was born and raised in a Christian home; and the first time I really felt the Holy Spirit in my life and in my heart was probably around the age of 8. But something happened for me in the summer of 2008 when I started attending Bridgewood with Matt. I went from being a Christian to understanding what true Spirit Transformation is all about. So when I found a letter I had wrote to Matt prior to this time in my life, from the March after Evelyn was born, and I saw included Ecclesiastes 3 because I felt it described our lives so perfectly, I knew that it should be the focus of today’s message. I knew that it must have a special place within Matt and I. Without that Spirit transformation that I spoke of, without the support I have received over the last week, without Jesus – I would not be able to stand here today.

When I have flicked Matt’s cell phone on over these last couples days to answer a call the first thing I see is his speed dial numbers, staring back at me is “Love Of My Life”. That was what he referred to me as. . .the love of his life (this was among other not so adoring nicknames such as ‘The Warden’ and ‘The Fun-Sucker’). But ‘The love of my life’ What a title to embrace – a man like MattyO -- so full of life, of passion, of energy, who could look at me and say of all the things on God’s green Earth filled with His blessings -- she is the one I love – she is the one I chose -- she is what brings me joy. What an honor for me. And sure, I brought him love and joy – but also frustration and down right anger at times. I pushed Matt like the good codependent wife I was. Matt did everything big. “Big things!!” he would say to me, “I got big things going on!!” as he would race around the house working on his next project. And being a father was something that Matt did BIG. He was so proud of Evelyn and Isaac, so proud to be a father to them. I was so very lucky to have a father like that for my children; and I should have appreciated it more often. I have no doubt that it won’t be many years before I over hear a conversation between my children talking of how daddy had put a swing right in our heated garage for her so he could swing her even in the winter. How he even had a big screen TV hooked up in there so she could watch Sponge Bob before she would go to bed. And I can almost hear Isaac saying, “And he pushed you so high your feet would touch the ceiling?” And Evelyn’s reply will no doubt be, “Well, Isaac, only when momma wasn’t looking.”

Over the years Matt and I’s relationship had rocky points, and unfortunately for me, I found out later then I would have liked that this fact was not an abnormal one. My own insecurities may have held me back too much from just diving head first into life the way Matt did – literally without a care in the world. But I feel confident that living that care free life through him was worth every worry it brought me. Since Matt was the type of guy to buy himself whatever his little heart desired, he was a tough guy to buy gifts for. So it was our first anniversary that in lieu of a gift I put together a scrapbook for him. There are four, and this last year I put together our wedding album for him – I will cherish those books now. I displayed them last night at the visitation and there was one poem I had wrote to Matt that I wish to share with you now. It was from early in our relationship, before moving out of of our first home, but after Evie was born. It is a glimpse of him and I, hand in hand, together at the lake we lived on. And that image I had envisioned long before he left this Earth, is one that I had not wrote for this day, and yet it has somehow given me peace.

Meant to Love

I woke up in a crystal blue lake today.

Surrounded by beauty, love, clarity.

I felt alone but only for a second,

for I knew he was with me.

He took his hand in mine and we gazed down at our toes wiggling in the sand beneath the water

That crystal blue water, reminisced of his eyes

As now sets in, and then fades away I cannot forget to remember...

The mud we trudged through not long ago.

And whether we are right now, or lost from then I know I love him

Not for who he was, not for who he is, but because we were meant to love.

Our love is is one not of chance but of a greater belonging

That in which he is a part of my soul

This has always been

No comments: