My other sister got up and told some stories. Same sort of thing.
I got up and told my story about my sister. A life of alcoholism, but also a person that really cared for other people. A life of ups and downs with several times in and out of jails and hospitals.
A life of distressed, drunken calls to her kid brother - crying in agony that she was afraid to die, afraid of God - she had done so many bad things in her life, she didn't want to go to Hell.
And then how something bad turned to good. A year in prison where two gals from the nearby country church witnessed to her and met with her weekly. She learned of the real grace of God and not her simple childhood recollection of God that equated to if you're good you go to Heaven, and if you're bad you go to Hell.
After those years of agonizing phone calls it was unbelievable to hear her on her death bed say “Well, I'm guessing I won't be around much longer. But whatever happens, I know that I am in God's hands.”
I think I closed it off with something like “And I hope that all of us gathered here today will have that same type of relationship with our Creator when we die.”
I was thinking of toning it a bit down on the preaching side, but glad I didn't. Seeing as the pastor didn't even mention God!
I spoke at both my mom and dad's funerals. I made sure the Gospel was presented.
I mean, what better time to talk about Heaven and eternity than at a funeral. That's about as real as it's gonna get.