After Our Journey Here

It's been a month since my dad passed into his heavenly home, into the Father's House. Covid-19 was just beginning, and mostly just the family was able to gather with us. I was caught off-guard at how the lack of personal contact with friends and church family would affect me. But since guidelines and recommendations were just beginning, we did have a few who ventured out, and their hugs meant more than I could say.

So very much has happened in these four short weeks, or long weeks as they've become with stay-at-home orders. As my mother has said, "Dad died just in time." By that she means that at the age of 93 and in his condition, that Dad didn't have to go through the worry and concern of contracting the coronavirus, as many across our land and around the globe have, that we didn't have to be concerned about trips to the doctor or more emergency visits to the hospital. Yet, at 89 herself, there is much caution on her own part.

I have a longtime friend several years younger than I who died last week. Cancer brought her end here on earth, and she, too, went safely into the Father's House. It's difficult for 20 young grandchildren, though, to say goodbye to their grandmother. And it's difficult for their parents to explain to them mortality. 

Yet, as C.S. Lewis has said, we've never met a mere mortal. For life goes on beyond the vapor of life here on earth. Those of us who have lived long know this life is mere vapor. So quickly gone. Yet, for those who realize early-on that this is so are more aware of redeeming the time as we're living it. 

This is certainly a time when the majority of people are considering death. (Although there appear to be many who feel invincible.) As somber as it may seem, this is a good thing to consider. Our afterlife hinges on what we think comes after our journey here on planet earth. 

Dad went peacefully, full of years, full of confidence of where he would awaken. And so did Naomi. They are now free from any of the concerns that we may fall asleep with tonight or awaken with tomorrow morning. They have arrived safely in the Father's House where He has prepared a place for them. Healed.

Image via Pixabay

Even Though You May Already Know

I'm beginning to read 2 Peter today, and as I come to verses 12-15 of chapter one, my mind goes back to the death of our friend Roger a few days ago. I think he could have penned the very words the Apostle Peter wrote in the first chapter as he was facing imminent death himself. Roger and his wife Marlo were always reminding us of the important things of life.

Therefore, I will always be ready to remind you of these things, even though you already know them, and have been established in the truth which is present with you. I consider it right, as long as I am in this earthly dwelling, to stir you up by way of reminder, knowing that the laying aside of my earthly dwelling is imminent, as also our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me. And I will also be diligent that at any time after my departure you will be able to call these things to mind (v. 12-15).

My Beloved and I worked on our state homeschooling board for several years along with Roger and Marlo and two other couples who became some of our dearest friends. We've met up yearly in a central location in the ensuing years to keep in touch and pray for homeschoolers across our state, but this past year the group wasn't able to synchronize a time to do that. It saddens us that we were not able to connect, knowing now that Roger's degenerating body would soon release him, and he would depart this earth. 

The Apostle Peter reminded fellow believers to keep reminding others of the faith, that we are to keep growing in the knowledge of Jesus Christ. As Roger and Marlo often reminded us, I remind you to do the same, dear one, so that grace and peace can be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.

As for the Apostle Peter and our friend Roger's knowledge of Jesus...

We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, 
because we will see Him just as He is.

1 John 3:2 

 They have now seen Him, just as He is.

BTW--If you're a homeschooling family, please consider supporting your state organization. They give hundreds of hours of volunteer service each year that most families probably know little about, but who reap the benefits nevertheless.

Painting ~ Thoughtful Reader, František Dvořák (1862-1927)

public domain via Wikimedia Commons 

Prepared to Live

To be prepared to die is to be prepared to live. 

~ Charles Spurgeon

The last two weeks have been the last days on earth for my aunt as well as a dear friend from back home. Both have passed through the gates of death to their new homeland. We traveled to be with my uncle and family last weekend, and last evening we also learned of our friend Roger having passed from earthly life to heavenly life.

Both are now rejoicing as they've met their Savior face to face, yet there is much sadness in their absence for those who loved them here. They have groaned for the last time as death pangs dislodged them from this earth and conveyed them into their new heavenly existence. And so we grieve, but not as the world grieves, for we shall one day see them again.

I do hope you are prepared to die, dear one, for the day is surely coming as it does to us all.  If you're not sure about life after your earthly death, I've written here about what drew me to Jesus and eternal life with him. I whisper a prayer that he is drawing you to himself as well. I hope to see you in my heavenly home when I see him face to face.

“If I do not think of death, yet death will think of me.”
~ Spurgeon

Image via pixabay

On Grieving A Child's Death

Our church family is mourning the death of a precious six-month-old baby boy, lost to SIDS. The grief and hurt are deep for the dear parents, the 4-year-old brother, the grandparents, and others in the extended family who had rejoiced in his birth. Only God can bind up their broken hearts, for He is the Great Comforter.

But others of us can offer comfort by our ministry of presence. What is to be said at such heartbreak? I believe the less said the better this early in the bereavement. Just being there tomorrow at the visitation, without knowing what to say, without saying much except to express the sorrow we feel for the loss that has overshadowed their lives. And to let them know that they are in our prayers.

I'm reminded of Job and his friends, of how they were a comfort to him the few days they just sat with him and said nothing. After they began to fill the air with words, he called then "miserable comforters."

When we've not experienced such heartbreaking loss, it's often difficult to know how to comfort someone who grieves. We can be advised on what may be helpful and not helpful from the heart of others who have walked through that valley. In her article What My Son's Death Taught Me About Grief, one mother shares her own perspective. One thing that was surprising is her advice to keep God out of the conversation. I've heard that before, that those who have a great loss (even believers) can sometimes feel betrayed by God. Reminding them that God will work good out of their loss is not a comfort at the moment. God still comforts, however, in His own way, for He knows the needs of the heart. We can rest assured of that, even though it might not be through our words. I found that mother's helpful article here.

Everyone grieves differently. For many, being reminded of God's love and care is very meaningful. It's a unique and personal expression of emotions, and so we wait for a sense of what may be helpful.

Another insightful article is here on Grieving the Death of a Child.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we have received from God. ~ 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Image ~ Liebevolle Mutter, Hans Bachmann, 1881

public domain via WikiMedia Commons

Thankful Thursday ~ We Can Go Peacefully

We found a dead cat on our porch yesterday. Where it came from, we do not know. Why it chose our porch for its last breath, we do not know. It appeared to have died peacefully, though, perhaps full of years.

Death eventually comes to all of us. I'm thankful that we can die peacefully, if not full of years. Peacefully. We can, but not all do. It's best to be prepared for it, to give it some thought.

Some fight death because they don't know what comes next. Even if they think nothing comes next, there's the uncertainty that drifts through the mind, like fog on a moonless night, stroking the tombstones through the cemetery.

What if they are wrong? I'm sure they don't want to be. They aren't prepared to be wrong. What causes people to cling to hopelessness? Death is not dying. The body, yes. The soul, no.

Jesus said to his disciples, "Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself, that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way where I am going" (John 14:1-4).

Those who follow Jesus know where they are going when they die. He awaits them. Is He awaiting you?

The one who doubted said to Him, "Lord, we do not know where you are going, how do we know the way?" Jesus said to Him, "I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me" (John 14:5-6).

Peacefully, through the door that leads to eternity.

The Passage Homeward

Death is a passage through tunneled light.

The tunnel ends, but not the light.

~ unknown

Our church family is mourning the death and celebrating the life
of one of our fellow believers. 

Harold has gone to the One True Light.

I have come as a Light into the world,

so that everyone who believes in Me will not remain in darkness.

~ Jesus the Christ

John 12:46

Jesus is the way Homeward.

Image ~ Light at the End of the Tunnel

via freepik.com

Open the Alabaster Box

The death of another celebrity today. I recall seeing her on television when I was a teenager. She didn't impact me as she apparently did some others, but there are glowing words of how much she was admired and appreciated.

I'm at the age now where I read the obituaries most days, hoping not to see anyone's name that I know. Many of those whose circle of influence has a much smaller radius than this celebrity also have glowing words following them to their graves. Words that would bring a smile and brighten their day if they knew. I do hope they knew while they were living.

So it's a reminder to myself not to keep affections and affirmations in an alabaster box until those I care about can neither hear nor read of them. I want to brighten their todays, as a dear friend did for me some years back. She gave me this beautiful box with a sweet sentiment written underneath the cover. A treasure to me as valuable as alabaster.

Today may be that last day of opportunity. Open the alabaster box.

On Clearing Up The Mistake

It is true, some wicked men die in seeming peace, and some good men in trouble, but both the one and the other are mistaken: the first, as to the good estate he fancies himself in, and the other as to his bad estate; and a few moments will clear up the mistake of both.

~ John Flavel, England’s Duty

Photo ~ Ross Bay Cemetery Fall Colors, Brandon Godfrey CC 2.0

Fullness of Joy

We went to the Worship and Thanksgiving service today of a wise, godly elderly gentleman. We feel blessed to have had the privilege of getting to know him in our small group for the short months since we've moved here. We are so glad our paths crossed for even such a brief time. Sorrow for now, but we shall see him again someday, when we, too, journey Homeward.

Death, to the saints, is the door by which they enter into the enjoyment of God; the dying Christian is almost home, yet a few pangs and agonies more, and then he is come to God, in whose presence is the fullness of joy. The same day we loose from this shore, we shall be landed upon the blessed shore, where we shall see and enjoy God forevermore.

~ John Flavel, Method of Grace

Photo ~ Sunset, giani, Pixabay CC0

Expectant Hope

Three friends in our church family have lost loved ones to death this week. There is sadness. Death, indeed, is an enemy. It isn't the way God intended life to be. Yet, unless we're living when Jesus returns for His Church--those who have saving faith in Him--it will needs be our gateway from here to Heaven.

"So shall we ever be with the Lord" (I Thess. 4:13-18). Comforting words for many of us when a loved one has passed from this world. Comforting if their hope was in Christ. Death brings sorrow to those who remain; it brings grieving because they are sorely missed. But believers don't sorrow as the world sorrows because of the hope, the confident expectation, that we live forever in the presence of God. And of this God wants us to have full assurance. He doesn't want us to be uninformed of what happens to a believer after death (v.13). When we understand the true impact of a believer's death, it brings that confident expectation; it comforts.

It also brings comfort knowing what will happen to me when I die. I have hope--not a 'hope so' kind of mentality, but a 'confident expectation,' for that is the meaning of the term hope as it is used here. I don't fear death or fear what will happen next. My confident expectation is that when I leave this body I will go to be with God. That expectation can only be based on the belief that Jesus died and rose again (v.14). And I believe that. It's a matter of faith. I will be transported from the caring arms of my family into the caring arms of my Savior, just as these three beloved ones were this week.

And so we comfort each other as loved ones depart, but we also comfort ourselves as we look toward our own farewell. "So shall we ever be with the Lord." Here and now. There and then.

And now let us consider what this glorious condition will be like when we are advanced. Oh, how sweet the prospect of the time when we shall not behold him at a distance, but see him face to face: when he...shall eternally enfold us in the bosom of his glory. How sweet to gaze on that blessed face for aye, and never have a cloud rolling between, and never have to turn one's eyes away to look on a world of weariness and woe! Blest day, when wilt thou dawn? Rise, O unsetting sun! The joys of sense may leave us as soon as they will, for this shall make glorious amends. If to die is but to enter into uninterrupted communion with Jesus, then death is indeed gain, and the black drop is swallowed up in a sea of victory.       ~ C.H. Spurgeon

Painting ~ Promenade a Skagen, Peter Severin Kroyer 1851-1909

Wikimedia Commons public domain

Understanding Bereavement

I read a book last evening that a friend lent me and came across the following. We've had several people in our church family lose loved ones to death the last few months. This helps me to pray more specifically for them in their bereavement.

"Understanding Bereavement"

Christians who have the hope of eternal life can be confident that they will spend eternity with their Christian loved ones. That is an incredible source of strength and comfort. Even so, this hope does not eliminate the pain and grief of the present moment.

When Pastor Rick Taylor's young son Kyle died, there came a time when he spoke these touching words from his heart: "Kyle is dead. He is gone. I will never see my precious son grow up. I will never throw the football with him again. I will never again help him learn how to grip a bat or clap for joy because he hit a ball. I will never again sit by his side and read to him at bedtime. I will never again go for walks with him and hear him growing up as he talks with me. I will never see the man he would have become."

The same kinds of feelings are present when a spouse dies. "The day-to-day reality faced by the widow is that she will never again be held by her husband in this life. They will never again hold hands as they take strolls under autumn skies. They will never again joke and laugh or hurt and cry together. They will never again watch the sunset together. They will never again lie beside each other in bed and talk together and love together."

This is the pain of bereavement. It is not just the fact that someone has died. It is the fact that in this world we will never again do the most precious and dear things with the person who has died. It is a hurt that wounds the heart like no other hurt.

from The Undiscovered Country:
Exploring the Wonder of Heaven and the Afterlife 

by Ron Rhodes

Death, A Sleep

But I would not have you be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, 

that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.

1 Thessalonians 4:13

Death, A Sleep

Charles H. Spurgeon

O, Let me rest! Come, night, and let me slumber! Come, my last hour! Let me bow myself upon the bed! Come, death, oh, come lightly to my couch! Ay, strike, if thou wilt: but thy stroke is the loving touch that makes my body slumber. Happy, happy, they who die!

They sleep in Jesus, and are blest;

How sweet their slumbers are!

From suffering and from sin released,

And freed from every care!

(If you'd like, you can read Spurgeon's sermon in its entirety here.)

Painting: A Golden Day Dream by Emily Mary Osborn (1828-1925)

Fellowship In the Cemetery

Precious Gifts by Gay Talbot Boassy

The temperature was a bit warmer yesterday, so a friend and I met for a walk. A walk always lends itself to good fellowship, especially a walk in the cemetery. By the time we finished, our bodies were tired, but our spirits were refreshed.

We talked about many things--children and husbands and homes and churches and ministry opportunities and drawing closer to God and aching legs... and heaven. We got to wondering if we would have the same personalities and basically be the same person there as here. Except, of course, we wouldn't sin and our legs wouldn't ache!

Do people in heaven think about the people they left on earth like a newly widowed friend at church thinks about her husband, or anyone who has lost a loved one to death? Would he be sad that she's sad and lonely? Sadness in heaven? I do wonder sometimes what's going on up there--or out there. Wherever it is, it's glorious, if for no other reason than Jesus Christ Our Savior is there.

A walk in the cemetery--a place that draws us to think on eternal things. My widowed friend's husband is buried there. I thought of him yesterday. I thought of Ella. I saw her last evening. She is understandably lonely after 61 years of marriage. Only God's grace can be the balm for a saddened heart. Dear God, please comfort dear Ella and put your loving arms around her.

Spurgeon's yesterday Evening Meditation converges with our thoughts:

"And they heard a great voice from heaven saying unto them,
'Come up hither.'"—Revelation 11:12

"WITHOUT considering these words in their prophetical connection, let us regard them as the invitation of our great Forerunner to His sanctified people. In due time there shall be heard "a great voice from heaven" to every believer, saying, "Come up hither." This should be to the saints the subject of joyful anticipation. Instead of dreading the time when we shall leave this world to go unto the Father, we should be panting for the hour of our emancipation. Our song should be—

"My heart is with Him on His throne,

And ill can brook delay;
Each moment listening for the voice,
'Rise up and come away.'"
"We are not called down to the grave, but up to the skies. Our heaven-born spirits should long for their native air. Yet should the celestial summons be the object of patient waiting. Our God knows best when to bid us "Come up thither." We must not wish to antedate the period of our departure. I know that strong love will make us cry,

"O Lord of Hosts, the waves divide,

And land us all in heaven;"
but patience must have her perfect work. God ordains with accurate wisdom the most fitting time for the redeemed to abide below. Surely, if there could be regrets in heaven, the saints might mourn that they did not live longer here to do more good. Oh, for more sheaves for my Lord's garner! more jewels for His crown! But how, unless there be more work? True, there is the other side of it, that, living so briefly, our sins are the fewer; but oh! when we are fully serving God, and He is giving us to scatter precious seed, and reap a hundredfold, we would even say it is well for us to abide where we are. Whether our Master shall say "go," or "stay," let us be equally well pleased so long as He indulges us with His presence."

Spurgeon's This Evening's Meditation

New Joys to Fill Empty Hands

Fishin' with Grandpa ~ Jorgen Sorenson

This week has seen three funerals related to our church family. Loved ones are gone, and there is much sorrow. Miles separate many who came together for just a few days to comfort one another. I think especially of the young fella of about ten or eleven years of age who came halfway across the country to play his mandolin for his grandfather's funeral. With our pastor accompanying on the guitar, he played strong and clear, playing for the memory of his dear grandpa who loved to play the guitar himself. Perhaps they'd played together just like this on summer visits. Undoubtedly, they'd gone fishing because his grandpa loved fishing, too. Before the funeral was over, the young fella was weeping on his own father's lap.

Death brings sorrow that lingers. Blessings have gone away, yet God is preparing other joys. J.R. Miller offers comfort in that thought..........

"Sorrow makes deep scars; indeed, it writes its record ineffaceably on the heart which suffers. We really never get over our deep griefs; we are really never altogether the same after we have passed through them—as we were before.

"We should remember that the blessings which have gone away are not all that God has for us. This summer's flowers will all fade by and by, when winter's cold breath smites them—we shall not be able to find one of them in the fields or gardens during the long, cold, dreary months to come—yet we shall know all the while that God has other flowers preparing, just as fragrant and as lovely as those which have perished. Spring will come again, and under its warm breath the earth will be covered once more with floral beauty as rich as that which faded in the autumn. So the joys that have gone from our homes and our hearts—are not the only joys. God has others in store just as rich as those we have lost, and in due time he will give us these to fill our emptied hands."

~ J.R. Miller
Grace Gems