Wednesday, June 20, 2012


As I walked through the National Cemetery of Guatemala, I saw the different types of tombs. There were the tombs of the rich, above ground buildings with beautiful statues honoring those that had passed.



Then there were the tombs of the poor, stacked on top of each other, some with just a number written on them, because the family could not afford a plaque, others were surrounded in flowers, but still less than half a foot of space in any direction, from another tomb.




And the poorest of the poor, those who could not even pay for a space, were tossed over the side of the mountain.



As I saw this, I couldn't help but to wonder if these people knew Jesus. It really didn't matter if they were rich or poor.Whether their earthly bodies were resting in an elaborate grave, or over the side of the mountain was no longer important if they didn't know Jesus, because we cannot buy our way to Heaven...

 I wonder how they lived their life. If they had the chance, what would they do differently? And where are the now- in paradise partying with the Heavenly Father, or suffering in Hell?

It makes me think about my life. I don't really care where I will be buried, or in what kind of tomb. I want to die knowing that I have made a difference for the glory of God. And when I die, I want to be welcomed into Heaven's gate and hear, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

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