Death and life

I think that my mind dwells too readily on death. Sometimes when my heart is full of pain and weariness I think about my own death, and it seems like a doorway of hope into a world of beauty and light. Other times, when my heart is full of need and fear, I think about the death of the people I love because I dread losing them. The slightest thing can go wrong in a schedule and my mind will wonder if they've had a car crash and I'll never see them again - or they can go in to the doctor for a cold or a minor problem and I worry that they'll have cancer or some other incurable disease and I'll have to begin the long process of saying goodbye. Anyway, I don't know if it's altogether good to be thinking of death so much, at least in the ways in which I think of it. Death isn't something either to be sought out or to be feared, I think.

To seek death is to forsake life - to deem all that life holds insufficient and worthless, to spurn the plans of God, to declare oneself the ultimate authority and power while simultaneously feeling utterly helpless and insignificant. It is the fight - the last desperate stand and even the apparent victory - of pride and the desire for self-sufficiency against the seemingly insurmountable obstacles of life and the unconquerable and undeniable faults and sins in oneself. It appears courageous to take that step into the utter unknown, but it is equally a cringing mournful fear of the perceived pain and hopelessness of life.

To fear death is to be attached to the comforts of life at the expense of the greatness of life. It demonstrates a willingness to remain half-human, absorbed in trivial pleasures, blinding oneself to the breathtaking visions and dreams of life because of the risks they entail. It is to see a narrower world than that which exists in reality - to see only the separation for a time and fail to see the reunion of eternity, to acknowledge only the pain of today and not the joy of forever. It is to think, in incredible pride, that one's own pain and suffering in this moment outweighs all the other purposes for which God is calling a person (oneself or another) out of this world.

In both cases there is a lack of trust in God and an attempt to control one's own life apart from Him. Neither reflects those timeless words of the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Philippians: "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." He did not go wildly forth seeking his own death in his own timing, because he knew that God had a further purpose for his life here on earth, and likewise he did not limit what he ventured for the gospel in fear of the possibility of death. He risked death because he wanted to live for something greater than himself.