"Often times I wonder that after I die
Who will come to my funeral and cry.
Would there only show up faces I expect?
Or would I be surprised if I checked?
I wonder if they will stand in silence and smile
I wonder if they'll leave right away or stay awhile.
Will they remember me as God's persevering fighter?
Or will I forever remain as the quiet, coy writer?
Will they see a girl who poured out her heart?
Or a girl who let the world tear her apart?
I wonder if they'll remember the words I write
I wonder if they'll remember me as a light.
Will Christians be happy to know they'll see me again?
Or will they question if there's even a "when"?
Will they think me as a sinner simply deceived?
Or a saint gone home and relieved?
In whole, will my life be reflected to my Christ?
Or will it be a waste, without a single price?
Oh, what will my life be to God?
How I hope I'll never be found a fraud.
Oh, how I wonder what testimony I'm leaving behind
Is it one that will crush my heart and cause me to grind my teeth?
How I pray that this life will not be a waste
How I pray for it not to be done in unthinking haste.
In the end, what will all the world see?
Will anyone even care to miss me?
Oh how I pray they will remember me as God's weak and lowly fighter
Oh how I want to make God's name all the more brighter.
What a waste and shame it would be if everyone left that service without to my God, a single thought.
What a disgrace I would to my grave have brought.
But let this body, mind, and spirit be worn out,
So as they gather for my funeral they will be clear of all doubt."
