Moses' words in Psalm 90 were key in today's funeral message. "Lord, teach us to number our days, that we may give our hearts to wisdom."
I didn't know Sharon (Sherry) Coy. Four months younger than myself, she died two doors away from a number of medical problems. She had been living with her son for awhile. When I got to his house (after a phone call), her teenage grandson was on the phone to 911, leaning over her body at the foot of the bed, trying to get her heart beating. But she had died hours before. I answered the door for the firemen who arrived within minutes, then stayed with young Andy while they did their routine.
I was a stranger to everyone as I sat there in the fourth pew waiting for the pastor to start the service. People just kept coming, taking their last look at their loved one, talking and weeping with family and friends. The service started fifteen minutes late. A number shared their thoughts.
Our days are indeed numbered. Martin Luther always wore a ring with a skull on it to remind him of his appointment with the One who gave him life and breath. It's all about perspective.
