Death

Easter For A Bereaved Daughter

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It has been almost two years since Mom died. Never having gone through this intense of a loss, I don’t know what to expect. As the church builds their anticipation toward Easter this year, I find myself increasingly frustrated and hurt by the imbalance (more on that later). So much victory, so little heartbreak. Where do I belong?

Our worship band tends to pull out “Easter Sunday” songs before the actual day in order to get the congregation familiar with them. Revving the engine, so to speak. I know. I used to be part of it. It never bothered me before. After grief, worship music is different. One song in particular has rubbed me the wrong way: Dead Things Come Alive by Brandon Lake, Chris Brown and Elevation Worship. It’s a gloriously positive song, highlighting that Jesus is a healer, savior, all-powerful, the one who crushes the serpent’s head, the one with dominion over death. Yes and amen. I believe that. The end of the song repeats these couple things: “Where, oh death, is now your sting? And where, oh grave, your victory?” This quotes 1 Corinthians 15:55. The other refrain repeated is “Dead things come alive in the name of Jesus.”

All true statements. All things I believe and are great cause for hope as a Christian. But it’s incomplete. It’s out of balance. It’s overwhelming victory with little to no grief. I can already hear the argument: “But there’s the Good Friday service.” Yes, there is. One time a year we allow ourselves to look at sin’s effect on us and the world, and to grieve it. Once a year. That is, if our church allows a minor key service for Good Friday. Some can’t hold the tension even on that day, and put in victorious worship songs. Assuming we do it well, once a year is not enough. It is a symptom of our pain-avoidance as a church that we cannot grieve, mourn, weep and lament together on a regular basis. The lament psalms are around a third of Israel’s public praise songs. We are not even close to that. It’s a great miss, considering how much difficulty and pain we walk through in this life.

C.S. Lewis also experienced this death-aversion, and had this to say in A Grief Observed. “It is hard to have patience with people who say ‘There is no death’ or ‘Death doesn’t matter.’ There is death. And whatever is matters. And whatever happens has consequences, and it and they are irrevocable and irreversible. You might as well say that birth doesn’t matter. I look up at the night sky. Is anything more certain than that in all those vast times and spaces, if I were allowed to search them, I should nowhere find her face, her voice, her touch? She died. She is dead. Is the word so difficult to learn?”

We celebrate births, and ask how the mother and father and child are doing as he/she grows. We check in, we celebrate milestones. We know that life matters. When someone dies, we don’t know what to do. We get uncomfortable. After the funeral, we never mention that person’s name. We don’t check in on how the bereaved are doing. We don’t recognize milestones or anniversaries. We don’t remember the dead in our services or conversations. We don’t sing their grief. We don’t pray their groans. Perhaps your church does. Most do not.

I was in a GriefShare group when our worship band began rehearsing that song. Over and over, I could hear “Dead things come alive in the name of Jesus” while we were grappling with the pain of our mother/daughter/wife/father’s death. The irony was not lost on me. While some people can worship to that song, it hit me like an arrow in the heart. What I heard was, “Dead things come alive in the name of Jesus, except your mom. Maybe you didn’t pray in the name of Jesus enough.” Another part of me fought back and said, “No, dead things don’t come alive. Not now. I know my mother will rise again, but dead things also stay dead. For years.”

It wouldn’t be as painful to hear this song if we would actually acknowledge the sting death brings in the present. But all we do now is celebrate that death has no victory or sting. Then what is this agony inside me? Jesus never meant for us to live only celebrating. Faith and tears coexist. Trust can look like bringing doubts and questions to God. Weeping does not mean there is no hope. Can not both be true? Can’t we weep over death while believing there is resurrection coming? I can weep with great sorrow because my mom is dead, while trusting God will raise her from the dead. I can ache and ask God all my questions while believing his promises are true.

1 Corinthians 15 was written to some people who didn’t believe there was a resurrection of the dead. Paul was writing to convince and explain to them what is true of Jesus’ death and resurrection and what will be true of us when we rise. Our church context today has no trouble remembering we will rise again, but spends almost no time mourning or grieving death, disappointment and loss. The grave is empty, but we’re not sad it was filled in the first place. We’re out of balance, and that alienates people who are deeply grieving. More than that, it hurts the church, who is not equipped to walk through great trials, who don’t mourn the things God mourns, and who have no deep comfort to offer those whose lives have blown up. It’s a shallow worship when we don’t weep over our Lazarus’ death. 1 Corinthians 15:55 was not written so people would not mourn. It was written so that they could “stand firm” and “let nothing move you (1 Corinthians 15:58). It was written so they could continue on in their faith.

Sometimes faith is celebration. Sometimes it is weeping with great sorrow. Sometimes is it living with a continual ache, with part of you missing until you meet Jesus yourself. That’s a long time to wait. And living with that deep ache is exactly what your victorious Savior is an expert in. He not only rose from the dead, he suffered. He groaned. He wept. He lamented. He knew grief intimately and deeply. He knows your story and walks through every moment of it with you. Yes, on Easter Sunday, many people’s expectations of worship will be rejoicing with loud singing, smiles, hands raised, celebrating the victory of Jesus’ resurrection. Your Easter offering may be tears, weeping, aching, and groaning, seeking to continue on when the weight is heavy. Even if the church doesn’t recognize your weeping and groaning as worship, Jesus does. He sees it, and it honors him. It’s a beautiful Easter offering.

Seven Ways to Respond When It’s Not Your Turn

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I have been following the Texas floods, as I’m sure so many people have as well. I read as a parent, as one going through grief, loss, and effects of trauma, but primarily as a human. It’s heart-breaking. I pray for the families who have lost someone regularly. I check the news when I can. I’ve cried, ached, and continued life, sometimes feeling guilty for continuing life because I know so many people’s lives have seemed to stop with their loved one’s death. What right do I have to live when their life has crashed? I’ve listened to the various ways people have dealt with their grief. I’ve been thinking of all they may be going through right now, knowing I won’t ever know their particular story.

And I do this from afar. I don’t know anyone affected by this horrible disaster. There is no one I can draw near to. I can’t sit in someone’s living room and weep with them as they reel from the reality of their loss. Sometimes, when horror strikes and we feel the weight of it, we also feel a sense of helplessness. Yes, we feel terrible and want to help, but have no idea how. What do we do? Can we help from a distance? Also, how do we let this tragedy shape us, instead of passing it over and thanking God it wasn’t our turn this time?

While I’m sure there are many more ways to help from a distance, here are seven ideas to get us started.

Pray.

Never underestimate the power and value of coming before the God who holds all things in his hands. It’s not only what we are asking him to do, however, but how God changes us through prayer. Yes, ask God for comfort and healing for the broken-hearted. Ask for him to provide all the resources people need. Ask for long-term help. I am also praying for redemption of the horror, for emotional support for the bereaved, for presence, for purpose in this time of suffering, for grief to be welcomed, felt, and received as the teacher it is. And we must not neglect bringing our questions, our pain, our anger to God. Mark Vroegop says in Dark Clouds Deep Mercy, page 28, “Throughout the Scriptures, lament gives voice to the strong emotions that believers feel because of suffering.” Now is a time to lament.

Help financially.

If you are in a position to give, there are multiple foundations started by the families of the little girls who died. There are so many heroes and organizations on the ground working toward relief and restoration. More than I could could list here. People are dealing with long-term effects and will need ongoing support. Consider finding and supporting an organization or group who has feet on the ground and doing good work.

Let your heart break.

In his novel, Theo of Golden, Allen Levi writes as the voice of Theo,

“My expertise in sadness is hard-earned. But I realize more and more that it is a gift. Living with sadness, accepting it, is easier than trying to pretend it isn’t there. It is another of life’s great mysteries that sadness and joy can coexist so compatibly with one another. In fact, I wonder if, on this side of heaven, either one can be complete without the other.” (pg 224)

This isn’t easy or popular, particularly in Christian circles, but it is absolutely in line with how Jesus responds to suffering. It is part of how humans look like God on this side of heaven. God draws near to the brokenhearted; Jesus mourned and lamented. Part of how God draws near to the hurting is through people who come near and weep tears along with them. We can believe with all our hearts that Romans 8:28 is true, that he will work all things (tragedy & trauma included) for good AND grieve that these people should not have died. When grief and sorrow hold hands with joy and hope, we get a clearer glimpse of God’s character. Together, this side of heaven, both of these are Christian. To isolate one from the other creates either a toxic positivity or a spiral of despair.

Some Christians object strongly to weeping, to the negative emotions, believing they are sinful. Or, perhaps, that feeling and expressing them may mean they don’t trust God or have weak faith. It’s an obstacle I am passionate about removing because it’s simply not true, and it keeps suffering people wounded and their faith weak. As Rob Moll says in The Art of Dying, pg, 139,

“Christianity does not shrink from death. It does not force a smile on the grieving. Christianity does not ignore death or say that it means nothing. Death is the last enemy, says Paul. It is evil, the greatest and most complete of evils. And if Christians are to know the greatness of Jesus Christ’s victory over death, they most know that death is evil.”

See people around you.

Consider the people in your part of the world. You may not be friends with the bereaved in Texas, but I guarantee you have grieving people in your circles. Let your heartbreak shape you so you may begin to see them, to know more of their story. Ask how their grief is doing. It doesn’t matter if it’s been three months or 30 years. It is always part of them and so rarely acknowledged well in our culture. Seeing their grief as part of them brings healing.

Learn to weep with those who weep.

I am fourteen months into my own traumatic season of cancer, deep grief and loss over the death of my mom. Through this time, I’ve begun building a library of books that have been a desperately needed resource in a culture that doesn’t know what to do with grief. If you were like me before Mom got sick, and don’t know how to help someone who is grieving, you’re not alone. The best way to start is to acknowledge that you don’t know, and begin to learn. Nancy Guthrie’s book, “What Grieving People Wish You Knew about What Really Helps (and What Really Hurts): about what really helps (and what really hurts)”, is a great place to start. Ed Welch’s book, “Someone I Know is Grieving” is also good. I’d also recommend Jennie Allen’s podcast “Made For This”, season 9, episode 8 with Bethany Barnard, titled “Grief & Unanswered Questions”. Tim Keller’s sermons, “Praying our Tears”, “Praying our Fears”, “Praying our Anger”, “Praying our Doubts” are great resources. Below are a few of the other books that have been a lifeline to me while grieving.

  • A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis
  • A Sacred Sorrow and The Hidden Face of God by Michael Card
  • Beyond the Darkness by Clarissa Moll
  • Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy by Mark Vroegop
  • God’s Grace in your Suffering by David Powlison
  • The Art of Dying by Rob Moll

Talk about death with your loved ones.

This is also an unpopular option, but a necessary and helpful one. As counterintuitive as it sounds, talking about and planning for death helps us live better. Ecclesiastes 7:1-2 says,

A good name is better than fine perfume,
    and the day of death better than the day of birth.
2 It is better to go to a house of mourning
    than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
    the living should take this to heart.

We all have an expiration date, and we all don’t know when it is. It could be in utero, 110, or somewhere between. I’ve learned it is foolish to assume our death will be when we’re old and gray. Sometimes it is, and sometimes it is all too early. Make plans for your own death, and as far as you are able, know the plans of your loved ones. If you have kids, talk about it with them as appropriate. My mom’s death prompted our family to begin preparing for death in ways we had never seen the value of before. Now I know my 9-year-old wants to be buried in the same cemetery as my mom, my husband and me. My husband and I began work on our end-of-life wishes, wrote them down, and had conversations about them. We’re working to get both our names on all the bills. Fight the temptation to have a once-off conversation due to feeling uncomfortable, then never bringing it up again. If so, you’ve missed the value of planning for death. This is an ongoing process, and may change as people and circumstances change. If you don’t know where to start, cemeteries often have helpful literature to get you started (e.g. funeral service preferences, grave markers, etc.). And while a health directive is a great idea, when you’re in the moment at the hospital, in the ambulance or at home, no one is pulling out papers to check what the dying person wanted. This is one reason why it is crucial to have these conversations when your loved ones are healthy and lucid. In that moment when a decision is needed, the loved ones being prepared is a great gift. It is loving, honoring and helpful to all to prepare for death.

Hug loved ones.

I’ve heard this often on social media when the news about the Texas flood victims became public news. “Hug your loved ones tighter tonight.” Parents in particular could relate to sending a child to camp and never having them come home again. Yes and amen. Don’t take them for granted. And don’t stop there. Hug others who are hurting. They are someone’s loved one, too. Grieving people who receive comfort from the presence of another will then turn and comfort another later on. Perhaps, over time, our culture will shift from the avoidance and minimization of pain to being able to enter another’s pain as a sacred place. Perhaps the presence of God will be better known because brokenhearted people are experiencing his comfort through his people drawing close to them in grief. Perhaps, some day, there will be less bows, less toxic positivity, and more of the real comfort that only comes through feeling deep pain. Perhaps, one day, more of us will learn through our greatest pain of the greatest gift. Michael Card says about Job in A Sacred Sorrow, pg. 43, a man who knows what it is like to have everything and everyone dear swept away suddenly,

“The man of Torah obedience is forced to a painful place wherein he realizes that, though he might not have seen it by any other means, indeed he does love God for Himself and not simply as the source of all His blessings……..Without the pain, Job might never have realized either the depth nor the dimension of this kind of relationship with God, and perhaps never would we.”

Continued Lament

/ melissamagdsick / 1 Comment

God, here I am. Almost 10 months since Mom died. 15 months since we knew something was wrong. I am still heavy-laden. And I wonder how I am supposed to go on. I’ve learned it’s possible to live without Mom, but there’s a deeper question. My heart is not a virgin anymore. I see the devastation that is possible. Horrific has a shape now. It is no longer abstract. I see what is possible. I see the potential losses. I see the hurt of the world. And my heart is breaking more. How can one endure this?

I see in my pain and my questions how You are so near. This is uglier than I thought it could be, and none of it seems to scare or surprise you as it does me. You know the worst. You know the depths, where I have not even touched. I see the ways you have worked in me through the pain. I see the foolishness in my heart I did not see before. I see the brevity of life. I see the importance of considering death. I see the insignificance of things I used to think mattered more than they do.

Did you have to work that through pain? Isn’t there another way? I don’t understand how you work, God. Why must you use pain? Even while the results are good, I cry out. This rips at my very being. My tears keep coming. How much longer will you have me in the fire?

You count each tear. You are so connected to me and to my grief that you know how many tears I have cried. How can you care that much about me? How can your heart break with mine? When no one else understands, you understand to your core. When I am alone, you are with me. When I can’t take more than one step at a time, you have gone before me and hold me up. You’ve provided for me in countless ways. I tried to keep a list and I know I can’t remember every person, every help, every practical need you’ve supplied in this horror.

None of this feels good. Trying to grieve well in a culture that avoids pain is another burden on top of the burden. Wasn’t the ugliness of her cancer enough? Wasn’t losing Mom enough? Wasn’t seeing the damage being done to our children and being powerless to stop it enough? Yet you thrust me into a place that does not know how to grieve. And it’s loneliness on top of loneliness; pain on top of pain. I need people, yet often they push me away from healing in their attempts to help. They have all meant well, God. Yet often they hurt. Yet sometimes they help. Did C.S. Lewis ever start a grief sanitarium? I would join one if he did. One tends to feel crazy if one attempts to grieve well.

How can life be so beautiful and so ugly at the same time? How can sorrow and joy intermingle so intimately? How will you one day divorce the two? Will every tear really be wiped away forever? To believe in you is to believe in the strongest magic we cannot comprehend. It really is the fairy tale of all fairy tales. If you really are who you say you are. All our greatest desires, all things beautiful, all our deepest hopes and aches are met in you. You truly are who we were made for.

There is so much I don’t understand, and will never understand. You are not waiting for me to understand. You are teaching me to grieve. To cry. To laugh. Help me figure out what life is about. What my life should be about now. Living for myself simply isn’t worth it. You see all the stories we tell. The good ones are the ones that echo self-sacrifice and loving others, because that’s your character. I’m still alive, so you must have a purpose for me. Let’s get on with it. I want to be with you.

Suffering as a Saint

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Ever since one of the most painful realizations in my life 10 years ago, I’ve struggled with understanding suffering as a Christian. It’s taken me years to even understand how much I have tried to avoid feeling pain, and how much I hate it. Throughout my years of questioning, I have had a growing unrest in my heart to what I will loosely label the “typical Christian’s” response to both the brokenness of this world and the suffering that accompanies the Christian because of his/her faith in Jesus. This typical response has a spectrum, and somewhere in the middle is: “Oh that’s horrible. I am so sorry. God, please comfort them and stop whatever is causing this distress and pain. Please remove the “______”. Now, if that’s your heart’s cry, cry it out. The Bible is clear that we need to raise our petitions to God. However, we Western Christians seem to be wonderful at mourning the brokenness that affects each of us, but we also seem to have a weak understanding of biblical suffering, how to go through it as a disciple of Jesus, and how to walk with and encourage other brothers and sisters in it. My own opinions and viewpoints, however, are not needed here. What we need is truth from God. We need to understand how he calls us to suffering as a Christian, and what he says about how to respond. Thankfully, God has plenty to say to us regarding suffering in his Word. Let’s take a look at a few portions of Scripture below.

Starting in Matthew 16:21. At this point, Jesus has been doing his public ministry for awhile. His disciples are with him. He has fed the 5000, and the 4000. He has healed many. He has walked on water. He has cast out demons. He has been confronted by the religious leaders and He continually offends them by breaking their man-made rules and exposing their self-righteousness. He has been revealing himself to be Messiah, God’s Son from heaven sent to save the world. However, no one really yet seems to understand how he will accomplish this salvation. His disciples seem to believe he will be a political leader, freeing the Jewish people from the rule of Rome and reigning in power as king. Now. So Jesus begins in Matthew 16:21 to explain to his disciples what is going to happen.

“From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” -Matthew 16:21-23

Jesus is clear. He will suffer many things at the hands of the Jewish religious leaders, and be killed, and rise on the third day. This is the first time in Matthew that he begins telling them exactly what his saving of the world will look like. He tells them again later. He’s preparing them. Consider Peter’s response. I see myself so much in Peter’s response. “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.” Never, God! You would never want such a horrible thing to happen. Peter didn’t have a category in his mind for why Jesus would possibly need to suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, to ultimately be killed, and then to rise again. He couldn’t understand why Jesus needed to suffer. And because he didn’t understand, bless our dear Peter, he takes Jesus aside and rebukes him. It would take a lot of guts to rebuke Jesus, wouldn’t it?! Can you imagine? “Jesus, I know I’ve already confessed that you’re the Christ, the Son of the living God, but I have to tell you you’re wrong. This suffering and death and raising you’re talking about isn’t going to happen to you.”

Now consider Jesus’ response. Jesus, who created this world with his Father and the Spirit. Jesus, who knew from the beginning that he would be the one to come and be killed for our sin, for our sake. Jesus, who had already been tempted by Satan to avoid the cross. He turned, and I imagine he looked Peter straight in the eye as he said it. “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me.” Now stop. Here is why Peter missed it. Here is why Peter couldn’t grasp Jesus’ need to suffer and die and rise. Here’s why we have a weak theology of suffering as a Christian. “For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.”

Friends, how often do we do the same thing when we or a loved one faces major pain or difficulty? How have we set our minds on the things of man instead of the things of God? My common “things of man” list includes:

  • Pain is bad. Avoid it!
  • Pain is bad. Pray against it!
  • Pain is bad. God, stop the pain in my friend’s life!
  • Pain is bad. God, get me out of it! As fast as possible!

Basically, I believe God couldn’t possibly want or have a purpose for me in something painful because he’s a good God. His job is to keep me from painful things. That breaks apart pretty quickly when we consider Jesus’ life and the following verses:

2 Corinthians 1:5 – For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.

Philippians 3:10 – that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death,

2 Timothy 1:8 – Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God,

2 Timothy 2:3 – Share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus.

1 Peter 4:13 – But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.

Acts 14:22 – strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.

John 15:20 – Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.

Romans 8:17 – and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.

2 Timothy 3:12 – Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted,

Romans 5:3 – Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 

Thankfully, none of us will ever need to bear the weight of suffering Jesus did. He took the worst of the worst for us, once for all. Yet, because he suffered in our place does not mean that we will not join him in suffering. No, indeed! The Bible promises suffering as a Christian. As if the above verses aren’t enough, check out what Jesus next tells his disciples in Matthew 16.

24 Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. 25 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. 26 For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul? 27 For the Son of Man is going to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay each person according to what he has done.”

If anyone would come after Jesus, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow him. Interesting that Jesus, pre-crucifixion, said to take up his cross. I’m guessing he knew he would be killed on a Roman cross. A cross is painful! Following Jesus requires your life. It means even to the point of death you follow him. You deny any right you think you have to comfort, to a particular lifestyle, to controlling any part of your life. You surrender it all, gladly, and you take up your cross, and you follow him. Death is painful. Suffering is painful. Dying to yourself will be painful! There is no way around it. Christian, we’re not called to only mourn our suffering! We’re called to rejoice in it! We are not to minimize pain or struggle or horrific circumstances and the mourning of them, but the Bible is clear that also we are to rejoice in our suffering.

Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. -Romans 5:3-5

Know this, Christian. It’s a witness. The non-Christian’s response to suffering will most likely be to avoid it at all costs. Run from it. Preserve your life at all costs in all ways. The Christian life is opposite from this. True Christianity becomes most visible and attractive to the outside world in times of trial and horror and brokenness and death. That is where a Christian’s response can simply boggle the mind of a non-Christian and show the world the hope we have in Jesus. How on earth can a husband and wife who have lost their eight-year-old sweetheart daughter to a sudden, unexplainable seizure leading to death be so at peace? How can they both mourn and celebrate? How can they be sure they’re going to see her again? What is this crazy hope they have? How can Christians who are being tortured and killed by their enemies be praying for those mutilating them? How can they die while singing praise to God? Why are Christians going to live with and help the sick in that part of the city? It’s quarantined. They’re going to die. Don’t they know if they want to live, they need to stay away? Consider this biblical example of suffering in Hebrews:

But recall the former days when, after you were enlightened, you endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to reproach and affliction, and sometimes being partners with those so treated. For you had compassion on those in prison, and you joyfully accepted the plundering of your property, since you knew that you yourselves had a better possession and an abiding one. Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised. -Hebrews 10:32-36

They joyfully accepted the plundering of their property because they knew that they had a better possession and an abiding one.

If we’re a true Christian, we understand our life is now hidden with Christ in God (Col. 3:3). So whenever our earthly bodies give out and die, we know and believe we will be raised again just as Jesus was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father (Romans 6:4). Even if we die, even if the worst possible thing happens, nothing can truly touch us. We’re secure in our eternal life; nothing can separate us from the love of the Father in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:38-39). Suffering with Christ brings eternal reward for a Christian (Matt. 5:11-12). Death is a doorway to be with our beautiful Savior, Jesus (Luke 23:43). One day, at the end of time, our bodies will be raised, and we’ll meet with the Lord in the air (1 Thess. 4:17), and he will wipe away every tear from every eye. Death will be no more, neither will there be mourning or crying or pain anymore, for the former things have passed away (Rev. 21:4). We’ll be in a perfectly redeemed heaven and earth. We’ll be in the presence of Jesus himself. We’ll be reunited with loved ones. We will be in the company of the entire family of God throughout all history, the bride of Christ, complete and perfect. Not one will be missing. With the heavenly beings, we will praise the name of Jesus with one voice. We will feast together at the marriage supper of the Lamb. Then, as C.S. Lewis puts it in The Last Battle,

“Now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

As a Christian, our hope is not in this life. This life is but a shadow of the one to come. We give up our life and willingly engage in suffering because we are so grateful and overwhelmed by God’s love for us in sending Jesus to give up his life for us. It’s a response to the most mysterious, incomprehensible love we have ever known.

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. -Galatians 2:20

If you prefer to save your life and build it as you want it right now, don’t follow Jesus. Build your life apart from him. Just know that if you do so, you’ll find yourself spending eternity apart from him, just as you have already been doing. Hell is simply a continuation of a life lived apart from God by choice. God isn’t casting people into hell who are crying out to him, “Save me!” He’s giving people what they have been asking for – life apart from him. If Jesus is your treasure, you’re heaven-bound. If you want nothing to do with him, you’re hell-bound. God does not want anyone to perish (2 Peter 3:9), but at the end of it all, he does give us what we want. There’s still time, friend! What do you want? Jesus offers you eternal life in himself. The only thing you need is need of him. You need to understand you’re a sinner. You need to understand you’ve wanted nothing to do with God. You need to understand you have nothing to offer to make yourself right with God, and you need a mediator. You need a Savior. You need a Redeemer. Jesus is it.

“because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” -Romans 10:9