On Wednesday, I was driving around with a fork in my hand.
I know, it's a little weird, and it struck me funny too. But I was headed to rehearsal and had stopped to get dinner, and I was hungry. So, as I stopped at red lights I would take a bite of dinner. Thus, I was driving around with a fork in my hand. I wondered what people thought as they looked over at me holding on to this fork.
Then I got to thinking about forks in general, and it reminded me about the story my pastor used to tell.
He told about a lady who was at the end of her life, and asked to be buried with a fork prominently displayed in her hand. When asked about the fork, this is what she said:
When I was little, and dinner was over, my mom would go around clearing the dinner dishes. If she leaned over and said in my ear, "keep your fork", I knew that this meant the best part of the meal was still to come - dessert. In my life, the best part is yet to come - heaven. So I want to be buried with a fork in my hand, and when people ask about the fork, you tell them that story.
I don't think I will ever look at a fork in the same way.
This morning I'm linking up with the Company Girls: check them out here. (They're a great group of ladies!)
K
ahh great story. I love it.
ReplyDeleteThe best is yet to come. . .what a wonderful picture!
ReplyDeleteAt Christmas, this story was part of the Christmas presentation at church and at the end, everyone was given a plastic silver fork with a ribbon on it for hanging. We hung ours on our Christmas tree, and the kids loved telling the story when people asked about the fork! I'm very late stopping by from Company girls...I hope your week is wonderful!
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