If Jesus were to write your eulogy…

Let’s just say it now: if Jesus were in charge of writing our eulogy, the whole thing would look very different from the carefully curated highlight reel we hope people remember about us.

Forget the fancy bullet points and the “She was always so organized” line someone says while side-eyeing the junk drawer you left behind.

Jesus doesn’t need your LinkedIn bio. He’s not impressed by the color-coded pantry or your impressive casserole record at every potluck from here to 2013. If Jesus were to write your eulogy, He’d skip the resume and go straight for the soul.

And let’s be honest — He’d actually know what to say.

He saw the silent battles, the prayers whispered between traffic lights, the grace you offered even when no one saw — especially when no one said thank you. He saw the times you bit your tongue (or tried to) and the times you blew it… and came back humble, teachable, and still trying.

He’d talk about your mustard-seed faith that didn’t feel like enough but moved mountains in ways you didn’t realize.

He’d remember the time you showed up for someone even when you were running on empty. He’d mention the grace you gave your family when they were being particularly ungraceful. (We won’t name names.)

He might laugh a little recalling that one time you tried to quote Scripture and ended up saying something about “cleanliness being next to godliness,” but He’d wink—because He knew your heart was in the right place.

Jesus wouldn’t just list what you did.

He’d celebrate who you became — not in the eyes of the world, but in your daily becoming, in the quiet obedience, in the growing, the letting go, the forgiving, the loving even when it was hard.

Because what Jesus writes isn’t filtered through the opinions of others or the social highlight reel.

He writes truth. Redemption. Hope. And let’s face it, probably a little humor — because He made us human and knew we’d make a mess of things in gloriously creative ways.

So maybe the most comforting thought isn’t what people will say about us someday.

It’s what Jesus already knows about us now.

And maybe, just maybe, He’d end the eulogy like this:

“She loved. She stumbled. She got back up. And through it all, she stayed Mine.”

Now that’s a legacy worth living for.

Until next time,