Allow me to preface this by saying that as a man using the word beautiful and going on a journey to discover beauty is very strange to me. Perhaps its our culture, perhaps it is how God created men, but this is something that I am not entirely comfortable with, which reassures me even further that it is definitely the Lord's will that I continue.
At first I felt overwhelmed as I began to find beauty in the most minute of things. Then I felt discouraged as if I was simply forcing myself to see what I wanted to see. So I began to seek the Lord even more fervently praying that he would open my eyes to see as he sees. Then as I headed home I saw it. I never before had truly seen beauty in a place such as this. How many times had I simply passed by without another thought. But today I turned off my road and entered.
This is not intended to be macabre or twisted, I truly saw beauty here, and more than what was portrayed on the surface. More than the flowers, trees and other landscaping. But I began to see the beauty of life. Within this cemetery there were hundreds of lives represented. More than that there were hundreds of stories that were told, of how people lived, of what mattered to them and of how they wanted to be remembered.
This then caused me to ponder about legacies. What will my legacy be? What will others say of Justin whilst his bones lay rotting in the ground? What will they say of you? As I looked at these stones set in the ground I saw the legacy left by these men and women. Some their faith, others their service to their country. I saw favorite sports teams, masonic emblems, marriages, fishing trophies, and more then I could begin to recount. The last earthly vestiges of men and women who wanted to leave one last mark on the world. As I pondered further upon this I found that the inconspicuous headstones were the most beautiful to me. The large ones for all their grandeur simply spoke vanity to me. I looked upon the large gravestones and saw greed and pride.
And then I saw this one...
I have no idea who Chester and Freida are, but as I stood staring at it the Lord began to speak to me. I began to see a story here. Let's start with what we know. Chester and Freida were married, The Weber's both clearly served the Lord, to what extent or in what capacity we do not know, Chester served our country in World War 2 and has now passed away. I see in Chester a man that lived to serve others, he served his country and God, from all appearances it seems as though he was a man that put others before himself. Okay back to what we know, Freida still lives, and is the ripe old age of 89. I would presume that she is still a widow and has not remarried (although that is only an assumption it seems a fair one.) Further more in the next week we are coming upon what would have been Chester's 89th birthday. Assuming that Freida still maintains her faculties I can imagine that a week from tomorrow will probably be a painful day for her as she remembers the lost of her best friend. I don't know about you but I plan on remembering her a week from tomorrow, I will be lifting her up to the Lord for renewed strength. Now naturally much of this is speculation, but as I stood in the brisk air gazing upon the tombstone set in the ground the Lord spoke all of this to my heart, and in it I saw beauty. The beauty of a life lived to serve others and the true strength of the covenant of marriage.
Perhaps one day we can all share the same epitaph as Horatio Carter. "Well done good and faithful servant." I know that is my aim.
Where did you find beauty today?
I will attempt to be a little less lengthy tomorrow... sorry bout that :)
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