Earlier this week, I had an acquaintance at work question me about this giant family function that bring us here tonight. He told me that it was awfully sentimental in this modern day. When I asked him what he meant, he said that “sentiment is too much emotion for too little a moment.”
As I thought about it more, I couldn’t help but ask myself, “Who wouldn’t want to have a life filled with little moments?”
In my 31 years- and I’m sure in Nana and Pop Pop’s eighty-something years- we’ve lost too many friends to disease, to accidents, to the dark abyss that lurks in each of us. I have also felt the miraculous power of Life, caught cup-handed like God’s breath on a winter morning. I don’t mean just weddings and births. It’s the honor in defeat, valor in failures, hope in the face of what seems logical and love despite the future of what lies ahead.
It’s no secret why on tombstones it is stated so simply- etched there in stone:
“Beloved husband and father”
Given the certainty of our destination, one thing holds true. All that really matters in the short littleness of life, is who you were to someone else.
Yes, I am sentimental. And it is worth every minute. I look at the series of oddly sometimes old-fashioned events that I have called my life. And I swear that I would never do anything different. All the mistakes I’ve made, any pain I’ve endured, all the time lost fighting so hard against things truly important… all this is such a small price to pay for the honor and privilege of being allowed to love the endearingly fellow sentimental people in my life. And everyone in this room has had this same blessing.
We owe to all to you Lord. Thank you.