Mary knows my choices. I've given some serious thought about writing the obit, except that falls into the jinx category and I don't want to get too far ahead of myself. Might bring the asteroid on down because of it, if you know what I mean. But scriptures selected, check. Songs selected, check. Preacher decided, check, check and check. Although I don't know what I'll do if Louie Giglio is busy. Maybe just go with Adam Hamilton or T.D. Jakes or David Platt or you know, someone slightly less famous.
But my choices for many things I want to happen at my funeral service -- which by the way I see as a party not a dirge and won't have it any other way if I can help it -- continue to morph slowly as I spend more time on earth that I could possibly have imagined. Like Mickey Mantle was supposed to have said, "If I knew I was going to live so long, I would have taken better care of myself."
Anyway, sometimes God speaks with more volume than at other times. Let me explain. I was doing a funeral for someone I had never met yesterday afternoon. The night before, sort of as a mood breaker or mood establisher, the kind of thing I do to help myself become prepared for the duty the next day, I was playing some videos right before bedtime. I wound up playing several versions of the same song as it spoke with the echoes of God straight to a tired, worn heart still looking for words that would describe a man I hadn't met to those loved ones who had.
I listened because I had begun to love (again) the Vince Gill tune "Go Rest High On That Mountain." I first heard the tune years ago when it was requested by a woman who was dying. As we prepared for what would be her funeral, a couple weeks out of course, she told me she wanted that played and she wanted bag pipes playing Amazing Grace at the end. The combination of those two events at the end of her funeral were staggeringly emotional, I must say.
I really hadn't heard that song again since. Not on radio. Not anywhere. I was as familiar with it as I am with asparagus. I know they exist, but that's about all of my experience with them.
But Gill's song was requested for the funeral of an ol' cowboy, so Sunday I thought about it all day long and somehow it became part of my preparation.
Gill's lyrics are simple, but so, so expressive.
I know your life
On earth was troubled
And only you could know the pain.
You weren't afraid to face the devil,
You were no stranger to the rain.
Go rest high on that mountain
Son,your work on earth is done.
Go to heaven a-shoutin'
Love for the Father and the Son.
Oh,how we cried the day you left us
We gathered round your grave to grieve.
I wish I could see the angels faces
When they hear your sweet voice sing.
Gill began writing this following the untimely death of Country music superstar Keith Whitley years ago. Gill didn't finish the song until a few years later following the death of his brother. Thus, the song is a tribute song to both Keith Whitley and Gill's brother Bob, who died from a heart attack in 1993. Both had histories of problems with addictions, so the song spoke to those kind of lives. Troubled. Work on earth. Angels faces hearing a sweet voice sing.
Goose bumps on weathered skin.
Gill has said "I wrote this song, and I didn't have any idea if anybody would want to hear it, or like it. All I wanted to do was grieve for him and celebrate his life. That's how I always process grief—sit down with a guitar and make something up. Turns out that if anybody remembers any of my songs, it'll be this one."
In my research, I came across some of these tributes to the song. (These are verbatum)
"My Daddy passed away Oct.25 2011, He had just turned 71 Oct.14 he had heart problems for 35 years. But he never complained about anything ,and he never acted like he was scared even when it was time for him to go. He stilled tryed to make all of us ok . I am Daddys girl and it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life to tell my Daddy it's ok to go and we'll all be ok and see you as soon as we get there. Everytime I heard this song it reminded me of my Daddy, so when we were planning the funeral I told my Mom I wanted her to here this song because it was like it was wrote for him. She listened to it and we all cryed like babys . We played it at his funeral. Daddy I Love You and miss you its so hard without you , but I know your not hurting or in pain anymore. Daddy had a voice so deep when he sang , so when I hear the verse I wjsh I could see the angels faces when they hear your sweet voice sing . I know your ok (sig.) now your singing in heaven and your still watching over all of us. I Love You and miss you Daddy so you rest high on that mountain and sing as loud as you can and we will see you soon."
- susan, maryville, TN
"The first time I heard this song was at the untimely death of a close family Teddy. When this song came on everyone went quiet and simply absorbed the words. He loved the country, horseback riding and he enjoyed going to our family house on the highest hill in Georgeville village in the Cayo District, Belize and so this song couldn't have been more for his. I LOVE this song even though when I hear it, it brings tears to my eyes."
- kim, Belize, Belize
So, on Monday when my meager efforts to help the family through the grieving process by giving a few hopefully comforting words were done, I sat down and waited in pained silence. Then Vince Gill's sweet tea and molasses voice, as pure and angelic as any in music, came sliding out of the CD player and the wonderful sound system.
Tears came down like Southern spring rain. My own eyes misted, though again I never met the deceased. Gill's song became OUR song at that moment, and for a few minutes I think we were all transported somewhere else where there is no pain and no loss and no need for grief. A place where we don't need to make sure we've packed heartache and sorrow in our weary baggage.
I now know a song I want added to my funeral choices. Previously I had Elvis' I Can't Help Falling In Love With You, Rich Mullins' Elijah, Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl now will be joined by Vince Gill's Go Rest High On the Mountain.
And who knows? Carrie Underwood's version of How Great Thou Art might be making a move on the outside, along with a late contender, Brad Paisley's When I Get Where I Am Going.
I long to go rest high on that mount so much I might even ask my wife, Mary, to go looking for some bag pipe players. Wonder if there is a listing in the yellow pages?
