Suffering maketh the man. Suffering forces us to look upon death with open eyes, with faith. Some would call such a thought ‘morbid’, but it is easy for those who have never had to face death to shrug it off, to ignore it.
That is not to say that it is always on the forefront of my mind, leaning upon every sight with its weighty darkness. When we look upon death, the rest of our life is illuminated, even blinding at times at the disparity between the two as when one clicks on a lamp from unlit darkness into its luminescence. The light is brighter for having known the darkness.
I am not afraid of death, though. Truly, what is there to fear? Should one run from the promise of heaven, from the promise of no more pain, from eternal joy?
No, death does not frighten me so much as not being alive does. They seem to be the same thing, but they aren’t. It is a life unlived, not a life ended that rears its fangs upon, that clamps over my throat. There is so much I want of life, so much to seek, to share, to experience.
I am left to believe this: if God has more for my life, I will be given the strength and wellness to complete the task He sets before me. If I am to be summoned by my Master, I will gladly stand before Him, thankful for the hours and people He gave me. As Paul wrote, to live is Christ, to die is gain. I simply would prefer sharing more life, more Christ, than I would gain alone by my death. But… not as I will, but Your will be done, Lord.