I know I may seem to spend an inordinate amount of time on the subject of death. But, really, when something happens that brings death to the forefront of my thoughts, the deeper revelation is always about life, the meaning of the fullness of life, the blessings of life, and its fleeting reality.
The most basic question I return to over and over again? Am I living my life like I KNOW all of that? The answer is usually, “Not so much,” – and so, I begin again until I forget again, and then I am reminded…again!
I must be forgetting too often because I recently had two powerful reminders from past experiences. Cherie Carter-Scott, in her amazing book, “If Life is a Game, These are the Rules,” offers her ten rules for being human. Rule #4 applies here: “Lessons will be repeated until learned.” I guess I’m a slow learner. So, let me try again.
A few years ago, Tom & I were driving home. On the highway, we swerved to miss hitting a dog that someone else had hit. It was still alive, so we went back. We waved traffic away from the dog so we could pull it off the road. Tom called the police, and we sat on the side of the road for thirty minutes while the dog lay dying. With the exception of its labored breathing, it never moved. The police never came, and the dog finally died.
It was a pit bull with no collar. As I sat there, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a stray, if it was wild, if it was rabid. But none of that mattered. When once I would have been afraid of this dog, I was now stroking its head.
And my reminder about life? I was thinking about all the people who die this way. Every human being has been created in the image of God. All are loved by God. Yet, many die in obscurity, alone and broken.
This brings me to the second incident I recalled when a dear friend’s father died. Her parents had been divorced for years, and all of her siblings disowned him. They could never forgive him for the pain he caused them and their mother. But she stayed in relationship with him all those years. My own attitude towards him was cold and indifferent.
When he died, I went to the funeral service. There were a lot of people there, which surprised me. Then, another surprise! The service was on a Wednesday. People could leave work for a few minutes to pay their respects to the family, but surely they would return to work or their busy lives. When everyone was invited to attend the luncheon, most of them went. It was crazy. I went for a few minutes but had to leave. Okay, I really didn’t have to leave, but I did. My friend and I agreed to meet the next morning to go for a walk.
This is where God entered my cold, pathetic heart. When I met with her, she began to relate to me what had happened after I left. She had noticed that there were several people there her family didn’t know. As everyone was eating lunch, she asked if anyone wanted to share a story about her father.
Some began to stand up and talk about him. One was a waitress in one of his favorite restaurants. She said he was so nice and would listen to her talk about things that she struggled with in her life. Several other people from other places he frequented said the same thing.
So there I was…I stopped dead in my tracks and began to sob, “Oh my gosh. I missed a blessing! I refused to give your father the compassion and care he deserved, and I missed the blessing of the life he tried to live.”
Yes, he made mistakes, and yes, he hurt his family. But, over those years of separation from them, he became a different person, a better person, but for strangers, not his daughters. How sad and how common that is. By pushing him away and shutting him out of their lives, none of them ever healed.
In my long, often selfish lifetime, I have learned that there is really only one thing that’s important—love. Not love of things; love of God, ourselves, and others.
Thinking about those two incidents ushered God back into my thoughts about life and death:
- Death does not care if we have left business unfinished, relationships broken, or children to be raised. It doesn’t matter if we are not ready or sit on promises to change.
- It will take the weak with the strong, the humble with the proud, the saint with the jerk.
- Death doesn’t respect wedding plans, vacation plans, or unmet deadlines.
- It does not operate by a timetable we set, and is no respecter of age.
- It does not discriminate between the most loved and most hated.
- It may not wait for the most brilliant to cure cancer, bring peace to a troubled nation, or receive a Nobel Prize.
- Denying that death is a part of life is like believing we still look like our high school picture.
- We can’t rely on death to come when we are ready. We can rely on it to teach those of us who are willing how to truly live.
- It can and should be a time of reflection. Have I lived well, loved well, forgiven — honestly – and sought forgiveness humbly?
- Good or bad, I have touched the lives of family and friends, the mailman, and the grumpy receptionist at the doctor’s office. Have I left love and joy in the hearts of those I will leave behind?
- I may have amassed wealth and recognition and may leave a fortune to my loved ones. All things they can pack away, gamble away, or throw away. But, at the end of the day...what have I left in their hearts?
Well, I’m not dead yet, so I can get back on track and try to live my life fully, love fully, and allow the ebb and flow of life and certainty of death to teach me what truly matters if I am a willing student.
And now, I will leave you with this awesome quote by Grace Hansen: “Don’t be afraid your life will end; be afraid that it will never begin.”
PASSION, PURPOSE & POOPYHEADS 