Only One Thing Lasts Forever
I've been listening quite a bit lately to contemporary folk singer William Elliott Whitmore. In one of his dirges entitled "Lord Only Knows," Whitmore laments the fleetingness of life and elegizes the flowers from a funeral, which are starting to wilt as they, too, die. The song evoked a cathartic response and caused me to reflect on the fact that, as some point, all of us are forced to deal with losing loved ones. Death is practically the only certainty in life, and probably the hardest part to deal with. It's a tragedy of whose painful sting has been felt by nearly every one of us. Death is the end of all that we know through our experience and senses, but Christians believe it is the beginning of something else. All too often, though, we forget the promise of eternal life in the midst of our sorrow. Mourning is necessary, and expected—even Jesus himself mourned the death of his friends—but we must be careful that we don't let lament tear us apart. Mourning must end at some point, and we must remember the promise. We must recall that in Jesus Christ we have everlasting life. I considered, while contemplating this song, that there are two ways we can respond to loss: we can turn away from Jesus Christ and wilt like Whitmore's proverbial flowers, or we can turn our eyes toward Him and gain strength and comfort through the hard times. In fact, these responses apply to almost any hardship, regardless of the severity, with which we might be faced.
Almost twelve years ago, I lost my grandfather to cancer. He was the first person to whom I was close who I lost to death's cold grip, and the loss made me question what I had learned about God, so much so that I eventually walked away from Him and decided that what I had been taught about God was a lie. I thought that, somehow, I would find meaning or answers now that I had freed myself from the "lie" that I perceived the Christian worldview to be. Three years later, I lost one of my best friends to suicide. The search for something to fill the void and ease the pain continued.
Almost five years ago, though, that search ended for me. Things came full-circle, and I found all of the answers to my questions in Jesus Christ, through the Bible and the people whom God had placed in my life. Scripture explained the pain on earth, and not only gave an answer for it, but also described God's place in all of it. Had I actually bothered to look there in the first place, perhaps I'd have noticed them, for they had been there all along. The experiences of others helped me to deal with the pain that I was feeling. Newfound knowledge of grace assured me that I could return to Jesus Christ without fear of being turned away.
Earlier this year, I experienced something of an abbreviated parallel to the tragic deaths of my grandfather and friend years ago. In early February, my aunt Lucy passed away, finally succumbing to numerous health problems that had plagued her for many years. Lucy was a quiet lady who exuded love through everything she did. Less than a week later, on Valentine's Day, my friend Mike was struck by a car and died shortly thereafter. Mike had a tough-guy exterior that thinly veiled his abundant generosity and genuine compassion, and he left behind a daughter who hadn't even celebrated her first birthday yet. These losses were incredibly painful to me, especially Mike's, whose death seemed so premature, and my initial reaction was to question God. Why would he allow these things to happen? It was the same question that I had repeatedly asked a decade earlier, only this time I turned to God for the answers.
I realized, finally, that death is not the end, but the beginning. It is not the worst thing that can ever happen to us, but the most glorious. Death is freedom from the suffering of this life, and the birth into the joy of the next. Those of us who have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ have in that relationship hope. Although we mourn the loss of our loved ones, we celebrate their deliverance to a better place. We can find comfort and even joy in the secure knowledge that God Himself is personally with us to help ease the pain. The ache of loss and the agony of death do nothing to disprove the existence of God or His promise of everlasting life, but the strength we have available in Him confirms it. Life on this earth does not last forever and that is a wonderful thing, for it gives way to that which does last forever: eternal life with the Father. And it is the freely-given gift of Grace through Christ that allows us to experience that life without end.
1 comment:
Amen. It's so hard to see the truth of what you say here sometimes. We need to mourn our losses, and i think the healing process starts when we really remember and embrace the truth of eternity with Jesus Christ, and hopefully those we've lost (depending on if they are saved through Him.)
I've totally had my heart opened up to this reality recently too. Even though i knew it to be true, i think i've finally begun to heal through this truth in my life. That doesn't mean that we won't MISS our loved ones, and still cry when we feel that loss. But it does mean we embrace hope and we look to the day when we'll be with them praising God together. Forever.
Peace to you Lucas.
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