The best is yet to come

I’ve never professed to be normal. I suppose it’s just not how I was wired.

When I was a kid, I never liked the crust on bread, but my mother told me I should eat it. So, I decided to just eat the crust first. I saved the best stuff for last.

It continued for me. If I eat a sandwich or hamburger, I eat all around the outside first, then I eat the inside, even to this day. I save the best stuff for last.

When I eat any meal, it’s easy to tell what I like best; I save the best stuff for last. If I record movies, I watch the least interesting things first. I save the best stuff for last.

Several years ago, I told a story in church about a lady who at her funeral visitation had a fork placed in her casket for all to see.

Sometimes I need the reminder of what it symbolized.

As a hospital chaplain and pastor, I have members and patients that I know are going through tough times right now.

For those who don’t know what it means, I’ll share the story below.

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things in order, she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

“There’s one more thing,” she said excitedly.

“What’s that?” came the pastor’s reply.

“This is very important,” the young woman continued. “I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.”

The pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.

“That surprises you, doesn’t it?” the young woman asked.

“Well, to be honest, I’m puzzled by the request,” said the pastor.

The young woman explained, “My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement.

“In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming, like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!

“So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, ‘What’s with the fork?!’ Then I want you to tell them: ‘Keep your fork. The best is yet to come.’”

The pastor’s eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman goodbye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral, people were walking by the young woman’s casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the pastor heard the question, “What’s with the fork?” And over and over again he smiled.

During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.

He was right.

So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come. Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. Cherish the time you have, and the memories you share. Being friends with someone is not an opportunity, but a sweet responsibility

Just remember…keep your fork! The BEST is yet to come!”

So, bring on the pumpkin pie!

Rev. Chlastak is a graduate of Northeast Louisiana University and New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary and has served congregations of the Christian Church in Louisiana, Arkansas, Virginia, Oklahoma and Missouri. He believes that God’s love in Christ extends to all people, and that ours should also.