My uncle and I were talking yesterday. My Aunt Helen passed away this week, and we were talking about never being prepared for death. She has been afflicted by Alzheimer's for the last few years, and he has cared for her at home. He watched her body and mind deteriorate, and knew when the end was close, but he wasn't ready. How can one really be ready to watch the very last breath escape our loved one's lips?
I went to my first funeral (that I remember) when I was in 7th grade, but we never really talked about death at my house, like it was something strange and taboo. I didn't think about it much, and I don't remember asking any questions about it.
In 1985 a dear friend of ours died of a heart attack in Southern California. We were called and never hesitated to change our travel plans to be at the funeral. As we walked into the chapel to meet the widow and view the body, I was struck by this thought:
"He's not here! This is his body, but he's not here!"
As a pastor, I've officiated at many funerals. I've felt the palpable grief of people who lost loved ones from sudden fatal illnesses or tragic accidents, with so many important issues unresolved...so many loving words left unsaid and angry words left hanging in the air. Other funerals were filled with memories, laughter, and wonderful stories of a life lived with peace, purpose, and joy.
I want to die well...I want to just enjoy the peace and joy of God every single day, following His plans as closely as possible...until one day He's done with me. I want to help people smile, think, wonder at God's ways, and find a purpose for their lives. Then I'll be ready to go, and meet Jesus face-to-face, and my Aunt Helen.
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