I was too young to remember the funerals of my biological Omas, but today I attended the funeral of my Oma-Friend (as she would sign off her letters), and I want to talk about it.

Not because I enjoy morbid topics, or because her life changed the world (although it did change mine, and for the better), or even because I am one of the few people who get the precious chance of a third Oma, but because I want a funeral like hers.

I want a love for Jesus so comprehensive that I leave enough Bible verses for my funeral that the talk could have gone on for three days.

I want a love for Jesus so joyful that I leave a list of thanksgiving songs so long that they need to be culled so we’re not still singing into the next morning.

I want a love for Jesus so confident that I ask that my funeral be called a ‘Thanksgiving Service’ – not for my life, but for the love and mercy of my Saviour.

If I reach 97 (2 weeks from 98!), I want to be able to say as my Oma-Friend did:

“Don’t make much of me at my Thanksgiving Service, make much of Christ.”

A poem written for my Oma-Friend on her 92^nd birthday, and my 18^th (2012)

With you I’d like to share,

Something I know I believe;

That our Father who is in Heaven,

Does give us what we need.

Now ninety-two years ago,

To this day, the 14th of September,

God gave me what I needed most

At a time before I can remember.

He knew one day I’d be,

By His Will and through His Plan,

Without an Oma; so His answer

Came not in package, box or van.

Instead it came in you,

And I couldn’t ask for more,

Someone to talk to and to love,

In you, He opened a door.

You don’t know how much it meant,

To realise that in church there be,

A certain older woman,

Who was a friend to me!

It was in His design,

That our birthdays be twins too,

For when I was a little girl,

That drew me to you!

Now I am a bit older,

And so are you, I see,

But nothing’s greatly changed,

For, “you” and “I” are still “we”!

So lots of love I send you,

On your birthday, and mine,

While we live and laugh and weep,

And through us God’s plans align.

For this I praise His name,

Be we apart or together,

Until the time that comes,

When we will praise His name forever.

I know I will see her again one day.