Death

"To everything there is a  season: a time to be born and a time to die" 

I have been to many a funeral where this passage was shared.  We are all appointed a time to die.  I believe that, but more times than not, death is not easy to accept.   And saying, "It's God's will" is brutal to hear.  A child murdered and buried in a hole for twenty years cannot be "God's will", can it?  I believe evil has something to do with it.


It has been a long held belief of mine that when it is your time to die, you will die.  It doesn't matter who you are, where you are, or what you are doing.   The circumstances may be up for discussion, but when is set when you are born (or maybe before).


My friend, Joe, was in a motorcycle accident.  He was thrown from the bike and landed on the right side of his head.  His helmet did little to protect him.  From the way his beloved wife, Alyson, described his injuries, Joe is "lucky" to be alive.  But was it luck?  Or was it not yet time for Joe to die?  It has been a blessing that Joe is alive.  He is struggling to regain his health.  For all the struggles and long nights, we are all happy to have Joe with us.  He continues to grow stronger every day.  Please keep him and Alyson in your prayers.  They have a long road of recovery ahead of them, but they will do it together.


Another friend of mine, Jason, lost his life to illness.  He had been fighting the flu or a cold that continued to get worse.  His brother, Jim, took him to the hospital.  Within in 48 hours, Jason was dead.  As he fought to breathe, he cried out to his brother to help him.  Was it Jason's time to die?  God's will? His death was sudden and is still difficult to comprehend. All I know for sure is that those who knew Jason and the community in general lost a champion.  His two children, Maddie and Ben, buried their father.  Danille, his fiancee, buried not only the man she loved, but the future they were planning to share.  The Christensen family buried a son, a brother, an uncle.  The community lost a police officer dedicated to the city he served.  It is difficult to make sense of his death.  He was young and    was one of those people who took command of a situation.  It has been a year since Jason left us.  Please pray for his children and his family.
Death seems so permanent to us here on earth.  It is comforting to know you can pick up a phone to call someone or send a text or email.  But when someone dies, contact is broken.  We no longer hear there voice, feel their comforting arms around us, or create memories.  We have the promise of a life after this, but we are impatient beings.  
My mom passed away 6 1/2 years ago.  There are still times when I reach for the phone to call her.  I miss her terribly.  She often accompanied me and the girls to a parade or on some little trip.  She taught me to respect the dead and we would often visit the cemetery to place flowers.


So I have just rambled about death.  It is late and hopefully this made some sense.  
Love those around you now.  Tomorrow might be too late.
Blessings, 
Linda