Carson Wayne Bird, father of Chad Bird, died on October 31. He was eighty-one years old. At a small, family gathering on November 4, Chad spoke these words to his mom, sister, and the other family members of Carson, who gathered to mourn and remember this beloved child of God.

We did not say “Goodbye” to our son on the day of his burial. We said, “Luke, we’ll see you soon.”

I want the beginning of my funeral to be focused on Jesus, as well as the middle, the end, and every point in between.

When Christians die, heaven does not “get another angel.” We cannot become angels any more than we can become giraffes or ocean waves or stars. We are people and will remain so after this present life. God did not make a mistake when he made us human.

When talking about God’s ultimate destination for us, we’ve grown sloppy in our language, nearsighted in our gaze, and un-Easter in our hope. We act and speak as if dying and going to heaven is what the faith is all about. It is most emphatically not.

As our first parents had a bond with the animals, as Noah had animals with him in the reboot of creation after the flood, so after this old creation comes to an end, we will enjoy a new creation that includes animals.

We’re messed up people with messed up bodies. All of us. Even Miss America gets hemorrhoids. The Fall mocks us in our own skin. We’re all walking sermons.

You are changing as your eyes move over these sentences. You are aging. You are on your way to death. And nothing, absolutely nothing, can alter that fact.

The Lord has a special place in his heart for those whom the world forgets. For the anonymous. For the rejected.

Because I do care now, and will care even after I’m with the Lord, here are some things I hope and pray are not said at my funeral. I care about those who will be there, about what they will hear.