At some point in your life you may have run across the poem, “The Dash” by Linda Ellis. The poem, often used at funerals and memorial services, tells of a person delivering the eulogy at the funeral of a friend. The speaker refers to the dates of the person’s life, the dates of birth and death. The speaker however focuses not on the dates of birth and death, but rather on the dash that separates the two.

“For that dash represents all the time
that they spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved them
know what that little line is worth.”

Perhaps it is a malady of age, but self-reflection insists that I take a look at “my dash.” What, to paraphrase the poem is “my little line worth?”

Self-reflection insists on an honest assessment of what we value and the priorities that guide our lives. Some folks find their value in the accumulation of material goods. Wealth and prestige are important motivators in their attitudes and actions. For some people service to others is a guiding principle of their lives and they find their self-worth in acts of charity and selflessness.

However, most of us are neither completely selfish nor completely selfless. People are messy. We are a hodgepodge of good intentions, mingled with self-centered indifference, and perpetually frustrating outcomes.

I like to think of myself as generous and self-giving. However, honest introspection reveals that I can be incredibly selfish and petty. Recent events have forced me to acknowledge that I want to be recognized and affirmed for my achievements. I have found myself to be snarky and ungracious when others get recognition for work that I have contributed to.

I understand the frustration of Paul when he wrote to the Romans, “So I find it to be a law that, when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand” (Romans 7:22) No truer words have ever been written. I do not want to be jealous, petty, and selfish. I want to be patient, and selfless, but I trip up on my own ego and pride allows me to indulge in trifling pettiness.

My dash is not a solid line, but rather a broken line of ups and downs as I struggle to live into the person God has called me to be. Thankfully, God understands my whims and vagaries and forgives me when I fail.

In my pastoral career I have conducted or taken part in more than 400 funerals or memorial services. In each of those settings one attempts through scripture, prayer, and spoken word to bring a sense of peace and hope to grieving family and friends. What it is impossible to do however, is change the trajectory of the dash. When that last date is chiseled into the tombstone, no one can change the life that was lived. We have only a short time on this earth to make an impact, and make no mistake, each life means something. We live totally for ourselves or in love to our neighbors. Whether we acknowledge it or not, we constantly show people who we are. People know us less for our words than for our actions.

So, what is my little line worth? Someone else at some future time will have the task of trying to define and make sense of my dash. Before that moment arrives, I have opportunities each day to define the meaning of my dash. I can use the tool of introspection, not to beat myself up over failure and disappointment, but as a barometer for gauging my actions and interactions with others.

While Paul laments his wretchedness, the dilemma of wrestling with sin and grace, he also pens words of hope and grace. “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death” (Romans 8:1-2).

Thank God! My dash is flawed by human limitations. The Spirit of Christ gives hope and possibility. We are free of our failures and free to live into the Spirit of Christ.