Most of my thoughts have been about death. Death has been my silent companion over the last couple of years. Whether it was a mom loosing a 5-year battle with cancer, a 31-year-old co-worker dying suddenly, a child tragically killed, a former student in a car accident, or several other untimely or tragic deaths, death has been silently walking with me through ministry for the last few years.
Sure, death happens all the time. But not like this. Not this many people so young. Not so many so close together. Not so many this tragic and unexpected.
I am learning that death does something to you; it works quietly and often below the surface. It brings a veil of darkness and a sense of helplessness. You can't stop it. You often can't predict it. You can't undo it.
This past month, death has gotten even closer. The silent companion who has walked at an arms length as I have ministered to families in pain suddenly decided to pull up next to me on the couch. For the last month, this companion has sat in the living room with me, both figuratively and literally. This unwelcome guest kicked open the door, walked in unannounced, and made himself at home.
I hate death. I really do. I think about death more now than I ever have. I am sure that being in my 40s is a part of that. There is something about hitting the halfway point in life (statistically) that causes one to stop and realize that there is more life in the rearview mirror than out the front window. The destination seems closer. The end is coming and there is nothing we can do to avoid it.
But I also believe that the experiences of the last two years have made death palpable for me. I can't turn a corner where I don't taste death. If I am completely honest, I have thought more about my death in the last year or so than I did in the first 41 years of my life. I think about it when I drive. I think about it when I exercise. I think about it when I fly.
Before you think I am always thinking about death, that's not true. It's just that the thoughts are more present than they have ever been. I don't walk around all day, every day thinking about dying. But I think about it a lot more than I used to.
So why did I decide to write this today? Mostly because I believe there are more people who are or have been where I am than are willing to admit. Or maybe they feel it, but don't know how to put words to it.
Maybe I am wrong. Maybe I am consumed by this cloud of darkness and just projecting it on others. But, after over a dozen years in ministry, I am pretty sure I am not alone.
I hope that these words touch the heart of someone else who is walking a similar journey. If they do, let me share with you words that you have probably hear hundreds of times before, but they are words that shine light into darkness...
The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever.
These are words of peace.
They are words of hope.
They are words of light.
While I get frustrated by Christians who just want to gloss everything over with a Scripture and pretend everything is fine, I also feel for those who have no sense of hope.
In the tension between death and hope we find ourselves struggling to understand. We want answers. We want resolution. We want everything to be OK. But everything is not OK. We live in a world that is dying and decaying. We experience pain and loss. We know that every day could be our last. We never know when death will rear its ugly head into the midst of our reality.
But at the same time, we have the promise of a world free from pain. We live for the day when all will be made new. While we can't stop death and we often can't predict when death will come, we can speak the words that Paul penned centuries ago...
Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?
The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthinans 15:55-57)
Yes, death will be my silent companion on this journey called life, and sometimes he will be close than others, but there will come a day when I will begin a new chapter in my journey. When I turn onto that road, death will have to get out of the car, and I will smile as I watch him the rearview mirror and drive away forever.
shine!
Jason
