Selfish

I must be the most selfish human being on planet earth.

I went to a funeral today for a sixteen-year-old girl who died in a sudden car accident. I cried along with everyone else, not because I knew her, but for all the lost potential. Moments she would never live.

And I imagined if it had been my own sixteen-year-old brother, and the instantaneous grief I felt over that thought made my stomach churn and my hands tremble.

I went through each of my brothers and sisters. And my mom and dad. I thought of what I would feel. What would be going through my mind if they were snatched from me, and if I sat in a church mourning their death.

And then I imagined my own funeral. And nothing hurt.

I did not grieve over the years I had left, or feel my soul wrenched by the pain of separation. My stomach stopped cramping and my breathing slowed. My eyes dried and my body felt firm, suddenly composed.

So I have decided that I want to die first, before anyone else. Jesus, it can be today or tomorrow, or years from now. But please let it be before anyone else.

And that is why I am a selfish person. I just don’t want to hurt.