Written beside a funeral — for everyone who has stood at one.
One by one, old and young,
one follows another down the final walk home.
Whether it’s sickness or crash, well or lame,
to death all prey is the same.
I have seen many come, but thankfully, fewer go;
and knowing who’s next — though I truly care —
is gratefully not mine to bear.
Is not life’s toll paid by the human soul?
One by one, old and young,
the story goes on till the last one’s gone.
This may sound strange, this tale of death,
but stranger still is the tale of life.
Who can speak of days on that path?
We want and want for things short-lived,
we get and get till we have to give all up.
One thing is sure, no one is exempt;
our abiding home won’t be this side of a crypt —
but not even death will hold its swelling fold.
For God’s got us all in a story all told,
and gives us the key to where that will be.
— Reider Waage
The key is a Person, and He has already walked the final walk ahead of us and come back. “I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore… and have the keys of hell and of death” (Revelation 1:18). Death does not keep the key. He does.