A 5-year old autistic boy named Lenny recently died in my neighborhood due to accidental drowning. He walked out of his house, found a slide, and went down it straight into a pool. This heartbreaking accident hit our whole community in a powerful way. Two days ago, August 3, 2021, was his funeral and it has had a profound impact on me as I know it did several others.
Two things about this young boy's life struck me as several people got up to speak about his impact on their lives. This little boy left an impression upon anyone and everyone he met. His joy was infectious. Even though he was considered 'non-verbal' his actions, smile, and few words proved he was much more than what his diagnosis gave him credit for.
His nurse's words hit me first.
She has first-hand experience with losing a child. At only 40 she had already lost a child of her own. She shared some words that were spoken at her child's funeral last night.
She said: "On a headstone, there are only two dates listed- the beginning and the end. Yet, on the headstone between those two dates is a dash engraved to connect those two dates. Too often we tend to focus on the end at funerals, but what's most important to remember is the dash. The life the person has lived and the impact with which they leave this world. Lenny's dash has left a strong impact, one in which in my 40 years I have not yet achieved".
Here then is the first thing a 5-year-olds funeral reminded me about life:
The dash counts. The space between our birth and our death matters. Our life one way or another will leave a mark on the world when we leave it behind. What sort of mark or impact will my life have? This question continued to swirl around in my mind that night.
I hope to leave a dash that declared: Marv loved Jesus, his family, the church, and others well. I hope to impact as many people for Christ as I can with my dash. I pray to be used to empower others for ministry, help be used to set captives free, and walk people to the Land of Promise that the Lord has for all of His children.
That is a dash of legacy. I know it begins with surrender and Romans 12:1-2 has been a constant in my heart and mind over the last year and a half.
"I appeal to you, therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect" (Romans 12:1-2 ESV).
Lenny's mother's words hit me second.
When his mother got up to talk about her boy, she talked about Lenny leaving a dash of love. She said: "Even though Lenny was considered non-verbal, the few words he did know were words of love. Lenny knew how to love and he loved well".
A boy who could barely speak learned how to utter words of love.
Here then is the second thing a 5-year-olds funeral reminded me about life:
Live a life of love. In a world (and church!) torn apart by hate, we are to choose love. Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13:
"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing" (1 Cor. 13:1-3, ESV).
Love is above faith and hope. Love is to define the believer. Love is what is to drive us closer to the Lord. Love is the engine of evangelism. Yet, so little love exists in this polarized world. Love should connect brother to brother, sister to sister. Lenny and his family are from Uganda. Love for Lenny caused an entire community to surround the family with help, hope and healing. The funeral was paid for. The food was taken care of. A Go-Fund-Me was set up and has gained a ton of financial help for Lenny's family. People who would not usually connect, and certainly not help one another out banded together because one 5-year-old lived a life of love. Lenny's life (not his death) united an entire community.
Imagine what more people living a life of love could do. Imagine what an entire church filled with people living lives of love could do.
Let's live like Lenny. Let's allow our dashes to count. Let's live lives of love.
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