Right around the time
the mayor challenged me to write about mortality, a couple of other
related things happened. A Facebook friend accused me of wishing my life away
because I wanted January to end. And my mother lamented, “what is it with all
the deaths lately?”
I was beginning to
get the message.
To the mayor, I said,
“Well, we’re all dying. I suppose mortality is a relative topic for a blog post.”
With my mother, I
held my tongue. But last time I checked, the odds of dying are a hundred
percent. I may be lousy at math, but I do grasp the concept of a hundred
percent.
Everybody’s doing it,
but hardly anyone’s talking about it—even when it’s imminent. Why is that?
With Easter
approaching, I think it’s a great time for us to consider this matter of death
and the hereafter. In fact, I think we can talk about this for at least four
weeks. You can tune out or tune in, it’s your call. Either way, your turn to
die is coming. The only piece we don’t know is when or how.
I know some people
believe that once we die, that’s it. We cease to exist. They could be right,
but if so, there’s nothing more to say.
So I’m going to
plunge forward with this series on the premise of my own belief, based on the Bible.
It’s summed up fairly economically for us in Hebrews 9:27-28: “Everyone has to
die once, then face the consequences. Christ’s death was also a one-time event,
but it was a sacrifice that took care of sins forever. And so, when he next
appears, the outcome for those eager to greet him is, precisely, salvation.”
So, with that out of
the way, I hope you’ll keep reading.
“Every man dies, not every man really lives.”
If you’ve seen the movie
Braveheart about William Wallace, Scotland’s
martyr to freedom, you are familiar with the quote above. If you knew you were
going to die tonight, could you honestly say you have really lived? I hope so.
It’s not a matter of longevity. I’ve known people who have packed far more life
into thirty years than some do into ninety—and I don’t mean bungee jumping or globetrotting or sampling every delicacy known to man. I’m talking about
making an impact, leaving a legacy. Using whatever time you have to invest in the
purposeful work God placed you on this planet to do. Bringing his kingdom to
the people around you, using whatever talents and passions he’s given.
If you can’t say
you’ve really lived, what would need to happen for you to be able to say you
have? I sure hope it’s not some superficial bucket list, some tourist trap
you’ve always wanted to visit, a golf course you’ve hoped to play, or a
mindless feat of daring you haven’t quite worked up the courage for. I hope it
would require a bit of self sacrifice. That’s where life is found. (Check out
Matthew 16:25).
Something to think
about until we continue next week.
When I read your article/blog in the paper I knew I had something to comment so this blog is an encouragement to do so. I had the opportunity to be present when my parents died withing three months of each other and when my husband died three years later. In the big picture, God's picture, I had no fear of death for them or myself before those moments. However, those experiences influenced how I view life and how I live it this side of Heaven. Those death experiences with loved ones were sacred moments marking the instant between God's kingdom on earth and his eternal kingdom. I agree that the best is yet to come, but also when we get glimpses of God's kingdom here on earth, those moments are equally sacred. Thank you Terrie for sharing many of those glimpses in your blog.
ReplyDeleteWell said, Cathy! Thanks for your comment.
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