It’s nearly impossible to face death (your own or someone else’s) without asking questions about life.
Death has been a steady presence in my life over the past few weeks. Friends of mine have walked through losses of spouses, children, parents and yesterday afternoon my sweet grandmother was reunited with her husband (who beat her Home by only a few months) and her Savior.
And with the regular reminders of mortality comes the inevitable question, How then should I live?
It drives me nuts when people say that death is just a natural part of life. Yes, it is the most common of human experiences (that and taxes, of course), but the reason it hurts so damn much is because it is actually the most UNNATURAL phenomenon that a person can face.
Because we were made for forever. God has set eternity in the human heart (Ecclesiastes 3:11) and when someone dies, every fiber of our being bucks against it because it feels so very wrong. And it’s supposed to.
Spiritual presence is thick in the air when death is looming. Demons delightedly splash in the puddles of human tears before God’s mighty angels chase them off and guard them fiercely. Tears shed in grief are sacred pools of sacrifice and worship, held in high esteem by our Creator.
Death commands a new normal in our lives, changes the world for those still walking this earth. And when the fog of grief begins to lift (and it will, not quickly, maybe not ever completely, but eventually we will breathe again) we must decide afresh how we will walk the rest of our days.
So how then should we live?
I have come that they may have life and have it to the full (John 10:10).
Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life (1 Timothy 6:18-19).
Life to the full. Life that is truly life.
I have a vague idea of what that is. But I think I’m pretty clear on what it isn’t.
It isn’t what other people think. No, read that again. It isn’t what other people think. I’ve lived most of my life in bondage of the opinions of others. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t upset the apple cart. Stay in your swim lane. Do what others expect you to do. No more, no less. Be nice. Play by the rules. Don’t make people uncomfortable. Tone it down. Don’t risk. Play it safe. That’s not life to the full.
It isn’t wealth. It isn’t a fat retirement account, vacations, money, possessions. That stuff was never meant to be pursued, sacrificed for, sold out to or be consumed by. And yet when I look ahead, I often think about having just a little bit more. Because if we had more money I wouldn’t have to worry about having more money….except that’s not true at all. I felt the same way when we had less. And now that we have more, I still think about having more. That’s not life that is truly life.
It isn’t notoriety. It isn’t a zillion Twitter followers. It isn’t being famous for acting, writing, speaking, inventing, building, underwater basket weaving, whatever. The masses are fickle. One day you’re a hero, the next you’re yesterday’s news. So you keep changing yourself to please your fans. Maybe you have as many versions of yourself as you have shoes in the closet. Nope, not life to the full.
It isn’t even the American Dream. (That’s really hard for me to type, but I know it’s true.) As I’ve said many times before, the American Dream is all I ever wanted. The ‘normal’ life: marriage (to the same person for my whole life), kids (well-behaved, well-mannered, love Jesus, love their mama), a dog, kids get into good colleges, have successful careers, get married, give me some grandbabies. Seriously. But that’s not it either.
I think it looks something like this:
You get down on your knees, bow your head and surrender your life to Jesus. You claim Him as your Savior and Lord and His sacrifice as your only means of salvation.
You open your eyes and are startled to see Jesus standing in front of you with a big smile. You scramble to your feet and stare at Him, awkwardly trying to figure out the right thing to say or do.
But before you can come up with anything clever, He catches you in a big bear hug that about takes your breath away and suddenly you’re enveloped in a peace so overwhelming, you feel like you’re taking your first real breath of real life.
And right as you begin to settle into His arms, He releases you as abruptly as He embraced you and with a twinkle in His eye He says, “Now…come get Me!” And He takes off running.
And then, you chase Him all the way Home.
The chase will involve sacrifice, letting go of lesser dreams and going after the big ones, walking away from the world that makes sense, living by the Spirit, rocking the boat, giving away more than you ever imagined. I think that’s the life that is truly life.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us (Hebrews 12:1).
One of the songs I’ve requested for my funeral (which Brad does NOT like to talk about and insists that I let him go first) is Andrew Peterson’s Lay Me Down. The end of it goes like this:
I’ll open up my eyes on the skies I’ve never known
In the place where I belong
And I’ll realize His love is just another word for HomeI believe in the holy shores of uncreated light
I believe there is power in the blood
And all of the death that ever was,
If you set it next to life
I believe it would barely fill a cup
‘Cause I believe there’s power in the bloodWhen you lay me down to die
So long, boys, so long, girls
Lay me down and let me say goodbye to this worldYou can lay me anywhere
But just remember this
When you lay me down to die
You lay me down to live
I often wonder about what heaven is like. But every time someone I know and love joins that great cloud of witnesses, I don’t want to wonder anymore. I want to KNOW.
There are some interesting descriptions in the Bible. I don’t know if those are literal or not. But pretty much the only thing I can know for sure is that Jesus is there.
And when it comes down to it, I guess that’s enough.
More than enough.
