Give the Grave Only Bones
By Jon Acuff
If at the end of my life, the only thing I’ve accomplished is a comfortable life, my days have been wasted.
If at the end of my life, the only thing I’ve fought for is my own name, my days have been wasted.
If at the end of my life, the only thing I’ve cared about is my own care, my days have been wasted.
If at the end of my life, the only thing I’ve stood for is my own reputation, my days have been wasted.
If at the end of my life, the only thing I’ve traded are works for rewards, my days have been wasted.
May we not go to the grave quietly.
May we not make refuse of the gifts we’ve been given.
May we never chase the shiny in place of the holy, the trend instead of the truth, the immediate instead of the eternal.
Arrive empty to the grave, having given all you were given, stewarded all you were tasked with.
Give the grave only bones.
As I look forward to a transition in my life and am excitedly waiting for it to arrive, I am reminded of this poem that so changed my life. Give the grave only bones. If you have been on this journey with me for a while, you will recognize the Jon Acuff quote from a funeral speech I included in Sweatpants & Stilettos. The funeral was for a former student of mine who had tragically been killed by a drunk driver a few years ago. This poem described her perfectly. She never wasted a day of her short life. Instead, she arrived at the grave, far too early if you ask me, having given everything to those around her. She invested in the people and places she was planted and did so on an incredibly intentional level. She was a rare one and dearly missed.
Today as I look at this poem, I am reminded of my own current place and people that surround me. As I wait for things to change and pieces to align, I am called to wait well. Wait with intention. In my newest book, I call these the boots days. This is when you are called to be ready for action at any given moment, but still, you are waiting. But I don’t know about you, waiting is hard. Sometimes it is boring, lonely, unsatisfying, or just plain annoying. And yet, at one point or another, we all have to endure it for the better that is just on the other side of waiting.
So what if we waited with a give the grave only bones mentality? What if we used every day, no matter what else was coming, to heartedly pursue holiness, truth, and eternity? What if our next thing never came, we actually arrived empty to our grave having given away ALL we could, accomplished ALL we were meant to? What kind of world would that be? What kind of life would I have? One thing is certain, I would always go to sleep tired. Because one thing I have learned about living intentionally is that it can often be exhausting. Everything is going great and disciplined and amazing, and then you hit the intentional wall. You simply cannot be intentionally anymore that day, that week, maybe even that month. Yes, I said that month. I’ve been there.
Stewarding your talents for others, for God, is wonderful but it is not always easy or smooth or energizing. It can often be truly draining and therefore only possible to do for a limited amount of time. Have you ever been there? Used up a talent so much it was actually exhausting? As a singer, I witness this all the time. I am surrounded by exceptional musicians who pour their talent, hearts, and hard work into a performance of a single piece or a concert or recital. And as soon as it is done, many are completely drained. They have sung, smiled, danced, performed with everything they had and there is nothing left to sustain them. The only remedy is sleep, maybe hot tea and a bath if you were to ask me. You want to know what I am thinking of as soon as a performance is over, when can I leave. Not because I don’t want to enjoy the evening with friends or family or audience members. Their congratulations and accolades are beautiful and heartfelt, but the only thing I want right then is a pillow. I put everything I had into that show, left it on the stage and now I was DONE.
I think the same would be true if we actually lived this way every day. Draining all of our talents at our jobs or in our marriages or in our communities. We would be tired, wanting to know when we can rest. But you know the funny thing about performances for me? I love every minute of it! And as soon as it is done, I am calculating the days until I go back to rehearsal to begin the cycle all over again. I spend months preparing, sharing pieces of my intentionality throughout, but saving the best for the stage I am going to walk on to. So while the mentality of giving the grave only bones could be tiring on a daily basis, I think the Lord has been gracious to create in us a heart and mind that is renewable. We do hard things, we exhaust ourselves, we recover, and then we do it all over again.
So today, giving the grave only bones looks like working hard on projects at work that don’t always excite me but will be impactful and meaningful to someone else. It means getting up early to work out because my body needs it. It means singing in a choir I love to share a talent God has blessed me with. It also means finding moments to set aside just for Jesus. Reading my bible, writing out my prayers, considering what He has done for me, and being thankful. Then at the end of the day, I will rest my head on my therapeutic pillow (because I am getting old and need that extra support!) knowing I had given it my all. One moment, one day at a time. Give the grave only bones.
What does giving the grave only bones look like for you? Give me some ideas of how you serve your people and community in the comments!
