Our church has seen four memorial services in the last nine days. Three people I know have been in the hospital with life-threatening ailments in the same time-period. We’ve recently come through sobering anniversaries of family deaths.
A friend’s book is on the top of the New York Times’ bestseller list. The title: Heaven is Real.
I’ve been thinking about death quite a bit lately.
I don’t like it.
I’m not concerned about the afterlife—what happens after I die. The Psalms we’ve been studying this month in Bible study indicate even the ancient Israelites knew the God they worshipped expected to see them after death. (See Job 19:25-27; 2 Samuel 12:23; Psalm 139:8)
I’m uneasy about the physical and emotional exhaustion of the dying process. And as I struggle with aches and pains and physical limitations at the relatively young age of 54, I wonder how I can go on another 25 or 30 years in an optimistic manner. How can I be a blessing in my aging process rather than a curse to my family and friends?
Death (Photo credit: tanakawho)
I used to be terrified of flying, or rather of being on a plane when it crashed. I’d have to steel myself before I got on a plane, and I’d spend most of the take off praying. That’s not a bad idea even on the safest flight, but fear was taking control and it got harder and harder to fly.
One day while praying about my fear of flying, it occurred to me that if God knew the number of hairs on my head, and if He knew the time and place of my death, being afraid of flying was pointless. I was either going to survive, or die. And if God ordained the length of my life, I could just as easily be killed crossing the street as crashing in an airplane.
No matter what I did at any moment of the day, I was going to either live or die. The question was not how or why, but when.
And the only one who knows the answer to that question is God.
I’m still not crazy about flying, but I no longer spend the minutes prior to and during take off in a frenzy of prayer. Sure, I pray, but then I leave my life in God’s hands.
He’s got it anyway.
Remembering those thoughts has helped me wrestle through the twinges of anxiety as mortality brushes its icy fingers along the back of my neck.
Do I trust God to use my life for His purposes for however long I have on earth? Click to Tweet
Do I have a choice?
I still don’t like the thought of dying, but I’m choosing to hope in God, so that I can yet praise Him while I remain on this side of the great chasm.
Great post, Michelle. I’m sorry you’re facing death on all sides, and illness. Some- times it can seem overwhelming. But the best outcome is when we go through the struggle and come out on the other side–right where you’ve landed…trusting God and leaving the outcome in His hands.