Facing Death and Hearing the Voice
“For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, IN HOPE that the creation itseld would be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.” (Romans 8:20-21)
Accepting the death of a loved one is always a challenge. It seems that, whether a life is ten minutes, ten years, or ten decades, when the inevitable end comes, it is always too short. Sometimes, when the circumstances of death seem particularly brutal or unnatural or tragic, the challenge seems impossibly overwhelming.
Still, the whole creation has been subjected to that same challenge, that same grief, that same emptiness, that same frustration.
In this emptiness, this grief, this frustration, there is embedded a quiet and persevering hope for those who try to listen to its still, small Voice.
What is that Voice saying?
Maybe it is saying that the life that has just passed was God’s gift to him and to all who knew him.
Maybe it is saying that every good gift comes down from the Father of heavenly lights.
Maybe it is saying that we are like small children on Christmas morning. Our greatest temptation is to cling to the gift and forget the Giver.
Maybe it is saying that it is OK that we are little children, if only we would admit that we are (Matthew 18:3).
Maybe it is saying that every good gift must return to the Giver (Ecclesiastes 12:6-7), and that even the best gifts only stay good if they return to the Giver. (Matthew 19:17)
Maybe it is saying that his passing is also a wake-up call for all of us. He is not GONE, he is just GONE BEFORE. My own time is coming soon enough. Then, I will not be GONE, just GONE BEFORE.
Maybe all of this makes me angry and I just want that Voice to shut up.
Maybe, in the next breath, I pray desperately that the Voice will not stop speaking.
Maybe the Voice knows how much it hurts.
I believe the Voice is right, and there is always a Resurrection Hope. . .
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. . . for those who listen to the Voice.
In Christ,
Conrad