This post is about death. I am just warning you, in case you don’t want to read any more…if death bothers/scares you. I mean, the title is Death, but I am just saying it again…so you can bail if you want to. (Pause…)

Ok, so you are still with me. We are gonna have to talk about this. Death. The finality of it. The horror, the fear, the sadness. And…the wisdom, hope and beauty of death.

This week, we said good-bye to an American hero and an icon. We have been witness to some of the most inspiring pictures and words. We have choked back tears or relayed a precious memory of those our nation, our world, has lost. We have been inspired to be more accepting, more spirited, and more honorable. Simultaneously, we launched into the next life, the best of our nation’s dignified patriots and one of our most creative and beloved artists. My heart is broken for their closest friends and family. And yet, I believe, they would want us to embrace this moment. This cosmic second in time, in which we have the distinct honor to contemplate the incredible life they both lived, in two different spheres. The loss of two such remarkable humans at the same time, I believe, is God’s way of smiling down on us, saying, “Guys, seriously, don’t you see? I am pulling together the greatest cast of all time for my party in heaven?!?”

But closer to home, what if…?

Two weeks ago, Scott and I went on a (much needed) weekend retreat where we were challenged to focus on us. Our marriage. Our lives. Our commitment to one another. We laughed and talked; we wrote cheesy love letters to one another. We cried. We talked about some things that weren’t too easy for us. We listened to other married couples share their journey—their struggles and their victories. We sat in hear-a-pin-drop silence as we listened to our leader, Ann, share her thoughts on the potential death of her husband of decades. There was no imminent loss. He was sitting in full flesh-and-blood health right in front of us. But she read a letter to him that she wrote while contemplating his (unimpending) death. What she would miss. How she would feel. All of the thoughts and emotions that would come out if her beloved were suddenly gone. I sat in stunned quietness. My heart pierced. My spirit overwhelmed.

What if…? What if I lost him, suddenly, tomorrow. I have a list of friends who have been in this exact place. The sudden (or rapid) loss of the love of their lives. My heart is shattered for them…So I am thinking of all of it…the practicalities…the life insurance is paid up; the bank account is ok; our kids are old enough to remember him; I have friends and family who would be at my side before reality set in; we have the belief and hope, that we will embrace again in the shadow of Christ’s shining glory in heaven. But…my heart. The everyday…

We have a series of long held habits and daily promises to one another. Everyday…I leave a post-it for him on the counter noting the time I fed and let the dog out; I always come back to bed to kiss him good-bye before I leave for work, which is just before his usual rise and shine time; we text each other in the morning, everyday, around 9-10am to “check-in”, see what’s going on, how the day is going; I set the coffee pot at night for the next morning, he always brings in the mail; I go to the grocery and cook the meals, he cuts the grass and pays all the bills…..these are the rhythms of our life. We didn’t talk about this. This happened. This is life together. This is the every day, every moment, every second reminder of him…my love.

When Jesus died, when He left His Disciples, they probably woke up the next day, bewildered, angry, sad; guilty for betraying Him or taking Him for granted. The ache of death is real in this life. For our Saints of ancient time; for the families and friends, indeed, our nation; for each of our souls…when we face loss. But we also have hope. The examination of a life without my love, increases my love for him now, with him. The reflection of death before it’s actuality…My heart is softened. My mind is calmed. These moments are meant to be held closely, softly. The love of him for me, me for him. The way I would miss him…may it seep into every moment of my everyday, now. Kiss him. Love him. Appreciate him more. Now….

 

 

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.